Deconstructing Dracula
by hmonster4
Summary: Fear, insecurity. They manifest themselves in different ways. An opportunity to spend 6 months in London working on a dissertation sets the wheels of fate in motion, radically changing the lives of 4 people in ways they never would have expected. AU/AH
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**vam·pire**

Pronunciation: \_vam-_pī(-ə)r\

Function: _noun_

Etymology: French, from German _Vampir,_ from Serbian _vampir_

Date: 1732

1**:** the reanimated body of a dead person believed to come from the grave at night and suck the blood of persons asleep

2 a**:** one who lives by preying on others

b**:** a woman who exploits and ruins her lover

**Whitby Abbey**

We stood at the foot of the ruins, staring up at the crumbling arches.

The ancient stones provide little protection from the wind as it whipped in off the ocean.

I pulled my coat closer, an attempt to shelter myself. Against what, I was unsure. The sadness of the ruins? The legend that had been spun from these ancient walls? Maybe it was the man next to me, whose mere presence challenged everything.

"There are no ghosts here, Isabella. No monsters. No answers." His voice was low in my ear. "Chunks of limestone and old stories. Are you happy now? Did you find what you were looking for?"

I didn't know how to answer.

How had my life spun so radically out of control? In just a few short months, I had lost my way.

Or, if I listened to him, I found it.

Either way, I had decisions to make.

I stood at a fork in the road. I had to choose. Indecision was no longer an option. It was unfair to everyone. Especially to me.

"Isabella…Stop questioning, love. Just live."

If only it were that simple.

"I need to go back. Please take me back."


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not suppose there will be much of interest to other people, but it is not intended for them._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 1 – And So it Begins**

**September**

"Ms. Swan, are you sure that this is the path you want to take for your dissertation?"

His tone was acerbic; he was questioning my decision.

"Yes, sir. I am confident that this the right path, and I think I have an original approach."

"Dracula is not a traditional work to base one's dissertation on. Not only are you taking an obscure work, you are challenging a century old assessment of its content."

I took a deep breath. I had anticipated this reaction.

"I appreciate that sir. That is why I chose it. The story presents so many opportunities, and it's not a work that is often mined. My hope is to create something truly unique."

He peered at me over the top of his glasses.

"You know that it's a risk, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. I am well aware of the challenges."

He shuffled papers around on his desk. "Very well, Ms. Swan. Please proceed, and keep me apprised of you progress."

With that, I was dismissed. Out of sight, out of mind.

Here's hoping my original idea made me stand out in the crowd.

**October**

"Come on, Bella. Stop being such a bookworm. Let's go out, have some fun, blow off some steam!"

My roommate Rose was in the middle of her weekly 'lure Bella out' act. Every Friday night, she would pull out all the stops in an effort to try and drag me away from the books, away from the research.

"All work and no play…"

"Rose, stop. You sound like Mike."

A book flew at my head. I ducked before it could do any real damage.

"I told you it's an insult to be compared to him. Honestly Bella, I don't get what you see in him. I may sound like a broken record, but he's bor-ring. He talks about himself, law, or sports. Dull!."

Rose loathed my boyfriend, Mike. He was a good guy, he just wasn't as dynamic or outgoing as she would have liked. She compared him to Vanilla often.

But reality was, I am Vanilla, so the pairing made sense. Not even Vanilla bean or French Vanilla. Plain old Vanilla for plain old Bella. Nothing too crazy. I had a predictable life. A dependable boyfriend. An insignificant course in life plotted out. Nothing left to chance.

And not a lot to get excited about either.

If there were no chances, that meant there were no risks. I never took risks. I never had. It wasn't that I was adverse to them. I simply didn't know how. Rose tried to draw me out, encourage me to 'go with the moment.'

Rose was passionate. She lived by the seat of her pants. I envied her, but I wasn't sure if I could be like her.

"Mike is in the middle of a big case. He's working late tonight. I was going to stay in and make a dent in my research."

"He works late every night. You don't have a boyfriend, you have a cardboard cutout with a full closet of designer suits. Now come on. I hear stale beer and loud music calling to us."

"Some other night, Rose. I really need to focus."

"You always say that." She picked up a book and studied the spine. "Don't you think you would be more productive if you went to the places you were supposed to know?

How are you going to write a dissertation on Dracula the sex god unless you frequent his haunts?"

"It's not about Dracula the sex god; it's about sexuality and choices." I corrected her. She knew the working title. She was simply goading me.

But going to London wasn't a new argument. I debated taking the trip multiple times. When I had mentioned something to Mike, he shook me off.

"Bella, you don't need to go there. You can finish your dissertation here in Chicago. You'll land a job, and we'll get married. In the long run, what does it really matter what your dissertation is about so long as you get it done?"

Plain old boring Vanilla Bella meekly agreed and dropped the subject. I never did argue back. But inside, I was screaming. How dare he marginalize my education, my dissertation? This wasn't some simple little paper. This was the culmination of years of hard work. This was my future. It was part of me.

By putting down my work, didn't he effectively put down me, question me?

Of course it did.

Did I say anything about it?

Of course not.

"Come on, Bella. Put down your fictional Count and come out with me," Rose coaxed.

Neither of them got it. Mike didn't want to. Rose tried, but couldn't understand. It was more than just a book. It just…it was just me. I couldn't explain it other than that.

I shook my head and pointed back to the pile of papers and books. "I can't Rose. Maybe another night."

Rose shook her had and moved towards the door. "Someday, you'll give up on the paperback prince and find one in real life."

I sat there staring at the pile of papers as the door clicked shut behind her. I'll stick with my fictional characters. Their lives were much more interesting than mine. And a paperback prince can't put you down or make you feel less important for chasing a dream.

**November**

"God dammit, Bella! Why are the piles of crap everywhere? Everyone will be over to watch the game in a half and hour, and you have all your shit all over the place!"

Mike stood there, looking like a crazed fan in his blue and gold jersey.

Oh, excuse me. Blue and Maize.

He had invited all his law school friends over to watch 'the game' as he called it. I could give a flying fig who was playing. I had just hit a groove on a major point, and didn't want to lose my rhythm. Blue and Maize vs. Scarlet and Grey. Who cares? If you listened to Mike, the world shut down for this game.

He took me to a sporting event once. I'll never forget it. A player had struck out, and broken his baseball bat in the process. Mike had laughed and looked at me. "That is the closest you'll ever get to a flying bat, Bella. Enjoy it."

He obviously wasn't talking about the splintered wood.

"Get all this shit put away; I don't want everyone tripping over it!" He began shifting piles of paper around in an effort to clear the kitchen table.

"Stop it! You are messing everything up!" He had collapsed my piles together, shoving everything into unorganized messes. Post it notes popped off papers. A paper clip clattered to the floor. I scrambled to grab the papers back, to stop him from wrecking more havoc.

"Stop being such a drama queen, Bella. You are getting no where on this dissertation. Why don't you just call it a day and move on? The sooner you do that, the sooner we can get on with our lives."

The argument was getting old. I was not giving up on my dissertation. I was too invested, and had too much to do. Right now, the only thing I wanted to 'get on' with these days was a car moving rapidly away from Mike.

The doorbell rang, ending the conversation.

"Just put this shit away, Bella. We'll need the kitchen table for the pizzas." He left the kitchen to greet his friends.

I quickly piled everything up and shoved it in my back pack. Enough is enough. I didn't want to be here. Mike provided no support, no encouragement. It was always about him, his friends, and his needs. I was fed up with it.

I grabbed my duffle out of the bedroom, shoved all my things in, and tossed it over my shoulder. My back pack went over the opposite shoulder.

I crossed the living room as Mike's law school buddies were chanting 'Hail to the Victor" in anticipation of the football game.

Mike didn't even realize I was in the room until I was at the door.

"Hey, are you headed for the library?" He called over his shoulder. He wasn't looking in my direction. "If you see the pizza guy, can you give him a tip? I'm not sure where my wallet is."

"No, Mike. I am leaving."

"Okay, I'll call you later."

He was so distracted by his friends and the impending football game that he couldn't pull himself away long enough to see I was carrying my backpack and my bag.

"Fuck you, Mike," I muttered under my breath, and let myself out of the apartment.

**December**

"Bella, it's been a month. He isn't going to stop calling. Will you please just talk to him?"

Words I never thought I would hear out of Rose Hale's mouth.

Once Mike realized that I had truly walked out on our relationship, he began a full on assault to win me back. I wasn't sure if it was truly about me, or part of the façade he cultivated. The right schools, the right job, the right type of girl.

It was never about me. Always about him.

I was tired of being window dressing in someone else's life. So I totally cut him off. I wouldn't accept his phone calls. I wouldn't open the door. I even threw away the flowers he sent.

Some people would call me callous. I considered it self preservation. I didn't trust myself to be strong enough to say no if I had to face him directly.

"Fine, if you aren't going to call him, then you need to do something. Change things up. You can't stay holed up in here. If you aren't home, you are at school. It's not healthy, Bella."

She was right. Rose was always right. I was hiding from the world. It wasn't accomplishing anything.

"Did you think anymore about what I said? We'll need to make a decision soon."

Rose's company was sending her to England for six months as part of a collaborative project with the British government. She had been trying to convince me to come with her. She knew I couldn't afford to keep our apartment by myself, and used that as her first prong of attack. She would then switch tactics, moving from fear of failure to bribery by talking about all the research I could do. More than half of Dracula took place in England. The research possibilities were endless. First hand knowledge of all the places that he wrote about, all the digging I could do.

She was right. I didn't know why I was so paralyzed. It should have been an easy decision.

But I was scared. England wasn't vanilla. It required me to take a risk. I'd have to take a semester off from TA'ing. It would mean that my savings would take a hit. I had already gone through my exams and received approval for my dissertation, but there was no guarantee that I would be any more productive than if I were in the States.

I'd also have to leave behind everything that I had here. It would mean really giving up on Mike. Leaving him behind when we lived blocks apart was one thing. Leaving him behind and moving four thousand miles away was something entirely different.

"Bella," Rose chided. She knew where my head was. "He's not worth it. He'll still be here in six months. No one will snap that winner up. Go take a chance for once. Get your dissertation done, have a little fun, maybe kiss a few British guys. If after all that, you find out that he's really the one, he'll be here when you come back. If not, you'll always wonder what if."

She was right. She always was.

I stood at a cross roads. Stay here in Chicago, in my Vanilla life, or take a gamble.

"Come on, Bella. I have a two bedroom flat. The company is paying for it. You'll only need to worry about your personal expenses. It's a once in a life time opportunity."

I had to make a decision soon. Assignments were being given out in a few weeks for winter term. If I wasn't going to TA, I needed to let school know so that someone else could be assigned.

Whitby. London. Maybe even Dublin. All the places I could go to uncover an original spin, an original perspective for my dissertation. Maybe truly differentiate myself.

Rose was right. It was a once in a life time opportunity.

All I had to do was make the decision.

My eyes scanned the room. There really wasn't anything to tie me here. My parents were empty nesters, happily living their own lives. Rose was right about Mike. If it was really worth something, he would still be around in six months.

Six months in London. The ability to do research in all the places that I had only read about. To dig through the archives to read actual notes from Bram Stoker. It was a once in a life time opportunity.

I would be a fool not to take it.

"Okay, Rose. Let's do it."

She had been expecting me to put up more of an argument.

"For real?"

I smiled. "For real."

She threw her arms around my neck. "Oh Bella, you won't regret it. This could be the start of a new chapter in both our lives. Heck, if nothing more, you can find a hot British guy and get laid."

"Please, Rose; no literary references, okay? I've had enough of that to last me a life time. And please keep my sex life out of it."

She laughed. "Sorry about that. Come on, let's go get a drink to celebrate. All that paper will keep; it's time to go live."

I cast one last look at the papers piled all over the room. She was right. It would keep. My life wouldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

_She is one of God's women, fashioned by His own hand to show us men and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and that its light can be here on earth._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 2 - Transcontinental**

I should have known was no way Rose would let me go with a simple coach ticket from Chicago to London. She had offered twice, and each time I turned her down.

But lo and behold, when I arrived at the United ticket counter on Monday morning, I was informed that Ms. Hale had arranged for an upgrade. Business class to London.

I shouldn't be surprised. Rose didn't know how to take no for an answer. I could hear her justification now. She had the sky miles, why not use them?

Maybe that was why we were such good friends. The upgrade was a great example.

She couldn't say no.

I wouldn't say yes.

We were perfect for each other.

My baggage was safely ensconced in the bottom of the plane as I settled into the large leather seat. I had never flown anything other than coach, and I felt a bit out of my league. I was in jeans and a sweater. Everyone around me had on expensive suits.

There were no women.

"Excuse me; I believe the seat next to you is mine."

I looked up to see a linebacker. The man had to play for the Bears. He was mammoth. I scrambled out of my seat to make room for him to scoot in. Dark wavy brown, almost black hair and piercing blue eyes. My eyes trailed further down. Snug polo shirt and faded jeans. Wow.

I'd owe Rose a thank you. This might not be so bad after all.

I had to laugh at myself. Single for a month, and I come out of my shell. Eyeing up strange guys on airplanes. What a difference a break up makes. Another six months, and I might even have the courage to flirt with him.

"Thanks. They make all this space for you in the seat, but getting in and out of the row is a bitch." He stuffed his bag under the seat, and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

I nodded politely, and went back to my tattered copy of _Dracula_. I had it almost memorized, but I loved the story so much. To me, it was a relaxing read. It would also distract me from the gorgeous guy sitting next to me.

"Dracula, huh? Kind of antiquated reading."

I looked up to see the linebacker studying the book cover.

"Have you read it?"

He smiled. Wow. Those weren't dimples, those were craters. And they took him from gorgeous to adorable. He was definitely dangerous.

"I loved that book in high school. A bit wordy, but once you got past it, one hell of a story."

I laughed. It was true. "I read a literary criticism once that said 'he could have cut 100 pages of prose and not impacted the story at all.'"

"Yeah, and probably killed all cliffs notes sales." He held out his hand. "I'm Emmett. Emmett McCarty."

I returned his infectious smile and shook his hand.

"Bella Swan."

"So tell me, Bella Swan. What sends you to London? Work or fun?"

I held the book up.

"A little bit of both, I guess."

Emmett looked confused. "Dracula sends you to London? What, are you transporting sacred dirt or something?"

I smiled. He was more polite than most when I broached the topic.

"I am working for my doctorate in English literature. My dissertation is on Dracula. It's kind of hard to do it if you've never been to the major locations in the story. Fortunately, my roommate is on a six month assignment in England, and I got to ride along. Or I guess I should say, sponge off her."

The killer smile was back. Oh yeah. This guy was dangerous with a capital D.

"So what about you? Why are you headed to London?" I asked, trying to get my mind out of the gutter. No way would a guy like this ever be interested in me.

"Same as your roommate. Headed over on a temporary assignment for work."

The flight attendant came by, offering us both glasses of water. He waved her off.

"I'm a civil engineer with a large firm out of Memphis. I haven't traveled much, and don't have anything tying me to Memphis, so I figured what the heck."

No ties to Memphis. Was that code for he was single?

I quickly glanced down at his left hand. No wedding band. No indentation like he had worn a ring for a long time either.

And I was going to spend eight hours sitting right next to him. Yay me.

Once we were in the air, we both slipped into our individual diversions. Emmett pulled out a laptop and a pair of black framed glasses, and focused on what looked to be technical specifications and memos.

I would periodically sneak a peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He would twirl his pen, and then drop it on his tray to type something on the keyboard. Once done typing, he would retrieve the pen for more twirling. The motion was almost hypnotizing, and I wanted to ask him where he learned to do that. But that would require me to admit that I was staring. My self confidence wasn't that high yet.

I gave up on my book and dropped down the tray table to spread out my notes and a few articles I had copied. It included the character list I had created, complete with screen shots of the characters from the Francis Ford Coppola movie. The acting might not have been the greatest, but the character images all fit my mental so well, I used them as visual keys to sort notes.

"I can't believe they cast Ted as Jonathan Harker. All I could think when I watched the movie was 'bogus'!" Emmett laughed as he looked over at my papers. He did a pretty good stoner impression, although I wasn't sure if it was Ted or Spicoli he was channeling.

"Yeah, he was bad. Somehow I don't think he was cast for his acting ability."

"Ah, that's right. Chick's dig him."

I laughed. "Not all chicks. He's not my type at all. Does nothing for me."

Emmett shifted so he could look directly at me.

"Then tell me, Bella Swan, what is your type?"

I could feel the blush creeping in. Was he flirting with me? Maybe he was just being nice.

I took a deep breath and focused on the papers on my tray. "I don't know if I can pin it down to a type. If I had to call out a few key things, I guess I'd say smile, shoulders, and wicked sense of humor. My friend Rose teases me that they have to be built like quarterbacks for me to be interested."

It was how she had described Mike. Well, before she got to know him that is.

"Hmm. Sounds like I fit that description perfectly."

Yes, he was flirting. My cheeks got a little redder. This guy was gorgeous, and he was flirting with me? He was so totally out of my league.

"So tell me, why a dissertation on _Dracula_? Seems like an odd choice."

It wasn't a new question. I was comfortable with the safer ground. Dracula had helped pave the way for a whole literary genre, yet didn't get the credit it deserved as a great literary work. Forget the movies, look at the book alone, and it was brilliant in its approach.

"I think that Dracula is a grossly misrepresented book. The whole thing was classified as horror, but it's really anything but. I am trying to make my case that it's really a cautionary tale about choices and sexuality, and illustrate how it totally changed the paradigm of gothic literature."

It was easy for me to talk endlessly about the book, about the characters. I had spent years dissecting it, making my case. I snuck a peek up at Emmett. He appeared interested, engaged. So I decided to continue.

"Do you remember much about the book?"

"Enough. Why?"

"So you have the two primary female characters; Mina and Lucy. They are set up as contrasts on all fronts; social stature, looks, temperament, views on sexuality. Yet at root, they are both caught up in a bizarre sort of triangle. Well, actually in Lucy's case it's more like a quadrangle. There is the safe way and the risky way. There are benefits to both. The choices that they make are as much tied to the personalities as to the time. Sexuality was a way of representing that risk/reward orientation."

I paused long enough to accept a glass of wine from the flight attendant. This business class gig didn't stink.

"Then you have the weird sisters; the three vampires that attack Jonathan at castle Dracula. They were a total contrast to Mina and Lucy. They are representations of consequences, of being overwhelmed by blatant sexuality. It's the impact of an incorrect decision."

"The weird sisters. Those were the half naked chicks in the movie that feasted on Ted, right? And Lucy was the hot red head?"

I laughed at him. Most guys lasered in on 'the hot chicks.'

"Yes. I tease my friend Rose that she and I are modern day equivalents of Mina and Lucy. She's outgoing, courageous, and flirtatious. I am more buttoned up, reserved, and practical. Of course, when I say that, she immediately wants to know where her Lord, Texan and Doctor are."

Emmett laughed. "She sounds like she's a pistol."

"If you only knew."

We continued to talk throughout the flight. Emmett told me about his job, his interests, and funny stories about his travels. He really was an entertaining guy.

"Okay, so I am curious. If you are Mina, and your roommate is Lucy, then who would I be?"

I didn't hesitate. "Quincey Morris. Without a doubt."

He looked at me with a confused expression. "The Lord?"

"No, the Texan!"

"That's not very original, Bella Swan. I know I have a southern accent, but I'm from West Virginia, not Texas."

I rolled my eyes in mock exasperation. "It's your personality. Quincey was larger than life. Boisterous, outgoing. He's kind of the stereotypical American male in the day. Plus, you seem like the type of guy who would totally dig a bowie knife."

Emmett roared in laughter. A man seated across the aisle shot us a dubious glance before returning to his _Wall Street Journal_.

"You figured all that out, and we aren't halfway to London yet, Bella Swan."

"Yes I have. And why do you keep calling me by my full name?"

Emmett smiled at me. "Why not?"

He was like a very large child. He laughed, teased, told silly jokes. The more I spoke to him, the more I enjoyed his company. His looks seemed less daunting. Still very inviting, in exactly the way it sounds, but not as intimidating.

We bantered off and on for the rest of the flight. We made fun of the atrocious movie and laughed at the stuffy patrons in business class.

At one point I glanced to my left. His arm rested on the console between us. The muscles in his forearm were easily visible, even though he was relaxed. Rose would be dying. She has a thing for guys' arms. She liked to watch baseball on TV just to 'enjoy the goods' as she liked to joke.

As the pilot announced our impending arrival into Heathrow, Emmett turned the conversation back around to what I would be doing in London. Specifically, where I would be living.

"The flat is in Waterloo, which works out perfectly for me. I can stay rent free and be in walking distance to Kings College. What I need to get to I can use the underground or cabs for."

"No kidding! I'm in corporate housing in Waterloo too. Who did you say your friend worked for again?"

"I don't believe I did. She's working on some project for the British government. I don't know what it's called."

He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but then checked himself.

"Maybe we could get together some time, well, that is assuming that your schedule permits?"

Was he asking me out? No way. Maybe he was just looking for people to connect with while in London. We exchanged cell phone numbers, and I told him that the first time we went out that I would give him a call.

We parted ways at the baggage claim. He waved over his shoulder as he followed his driver out the door.

"Bella!" I could hear Rose before I could see her. The crowds parted, some in response to her elbowing her way through, others in awe. Rose knew how to clear a path, that's for sure.

I picked my back pack up to throw over my shoulder. The front pocket must not have been zipped. Pens, my thumb drive, and other odds and ends went scattering all over the floor.

"Shit!" I dropped to my knees, scrambling to pick everything up. Rose knelt down to help.

"Excuse me, would this perchance be yours?" I looked up to see a tall, thin blonde man with aquiline features holding up my thumb drive. He wasn't looking at me.

Rose gave him one of her shock and awe smiles. "Yes, thank you."

She stood, brushing off the knees of her blue jeans. The man was still riveted on her.

"You're American, yes? Here on holiday?"

His accent was clipped and very polished. It complimented the dark tailored wool suit and crisp white shirt. I could just make out the monogram sticking out from under his cuff.

"No, we are both here for work." Rose grabbed the handle on one of my roller bags. "Thank you for your help."

She looked at me and rolled her eyes as if to as 'get a load of this guy,' and led me towards the exit.

"Excuse me, miss?" The man with the posh accent was calling after us. He held out my iPod. "I don't think you'll want to lose this."

"Oh, thank you!" I retrieved it from him, embarrassed at what a disorganized mess I was.

"Absolutely. Enjoy your visit."

He gave Rose another long look before turning to walk away.

"Honestly, can you believe that guy? Geez. Ogle much?" Rose stepped to the curb and hailed a cab. She gave him the address in Waterloo, and climbed into the back seat.

"Was the flight okay? Did they upgrade you like they were supposed to?"

"Yes, thank you. Although you shouldn't have." Rose immediately waved me off.

"You should have seen the guy that I sat next to. Gorgeous didn't have anything on him."

"Gorgeous is only good if he has a brain." She shot back. Rose had a very low tolerance for dumb men. Unfortunately, most of the guys that could work up the courage to approach her were as pretty as she was, and had the depth of a rain puddle.

"Smart, funny, killer dimples, and he had 'the muscle.'" I used my index finger to trace along my fore arm.

"Oh you just suck! That is so beyond hot."

We both broke into giggles.

"So did you exchange details? Is he going to be here for a while?"

"Yes, he's here on business. And we exchanged cell numbers. I don't think anything will come of it, but he was nice."

"Well, hopefully the hottie from business class with the arms will call you. Lord knows you could use some fun."

"You are bound and determined to purge Mike from my brain, aren't you?"

"Whatever it takes." Rose pointed out our building to the cab driver. "What is your agenda over the next few days? Hang out and moon over your dark prince? Maybe have a terrestrial version of the mile high club with Mr. Business Class?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. More like get settled in. I need to connect with the guy at Kings College first thing tomorrow to get everything arranged. Other than that, get to work."

"Will you at least promise me that you will try and have some fun while you are here? No one knows you. You can go out, be wild, and dance on tables. Do very un Bella like things."

"Rose, I came to London to work on my dissertation, not find myself."

She mumbled something under her breath.

"Whatever you say, _Mina_. But this is a once in a life time opportunity, and I am going to keep reminding you of that. You don't want to miss out."

"I won't, Rose. I am going to focus on my research, and getting this albatross from around my neck so that I can get on with my life."


	4. Chapter 4

_For life be, after all, only a waitin' for somethin' else than what we're doin', and death be all that we can rightly depend on_

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 3 - The Good Doctor**

When I let my advisor know that I was planning to spend six months in London, he had encouraged me to get in touch with Jasper Whitlock.

Dr. Whitlock was affiliated with the Kings College School of Arts and Humanities. He was considered an expert in Victorian literature, specifically the Bronte sisters and Oscar Wilde. He recently published a series of papers on the origination of super natural or 'fantastic fiction' during the Victorian Era, and referenced, amongst

others, _Sherlock Holmes_, _Dracula_, _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_, and _The Invisible Man_ in his paper.

I called his office in advance and arranged a meeting at four on my first full day in London. My body was still adjusting to the change in time; therefore, I was happy to have the afternoon meeting.

My morning was spent putting away my clothes, acclimating myself with our flat, and figuring out the easiest course to Kings College. It wasn't a bad walk, and while the locals might consider it cold for January, 40 degrees was downright balmy compared to -2 degrees in Chicago.

That's without the wind chill.

Unsure as to the proper etiquette for meeting a Doctor of Letters outside the states, I dressed a bit more formally than I normally would. Pencil skirt, cashmere sweater, tall boots and a long leather jacket. It would be warm enough during the walk, yet hopefully appropriate for a first meeting.

I threw my binder with the outline of my dissertation and key notes in my backpack, along with my wallet and cell phone. Having learned from the debacle at the airport yesterday, I checked all the pockets to make sure that they were zipped and secure.

With nothing more to distract myself, I grabbed an umbrella, locked the flat door behind me and made my way down to the road. The directions were simple, and I admired landmarks I had never expected that I would see along the way. I couldn't help but smile when I walked by the Royal National Theater. Let Mike see me now.

I hadn't thought about Mike for a few days. At first, I felt guilty for pushing him out of my mind so easily. We had dated for four years; it shouldn't be so simple to purge him from my consciousness. But with every passing week, it became easier not to think about him.

And by not thinking about him, I felt lighter, freer. I had spent so much time chasing after him, making sure he had what he needed, playing the dutiful little girlfriend, that I had lost myself. I had started to believe the pot shots he took at me. I don't think he made statements like "what do you really think you are going to do with a doctorate" to hurt me, but they did.

I didn't recognize the changes. It was all too superficial to me. But I wasn't in London an hour when Rose was commenting on how different I seemed. It had only been a few weeks since we were last together, just before Christmas, and not enough time to make a marked difference. At least that is what I thought. But Rose claimed that I seemed more confident, more assured.

I stopped for a moment and looked over the Waterloo Bridge, down on the Thames River. It still seemed surreal to me. I had dreamed for years of coming to England. My fixation had grown stronger as I started working on my dissertation, yet the underlying desire to come here had always been there. I wouldn't admit it to anyone, but I wanted to do the cheesy touristy things. Go to the Tower of London. Try to make a Beef Eater smile. See Big Ben. Do the silly walk across Abbey Road. I sounded like I was sixteen, not twenty five.

"Well, if this isn't a coincidence?"

I looked up to see Emmett walking towards me, bundled in a parka and Washington Nationals baseball cap. I couldn't resist his infectious grin.

"Hi Emmett! How are you?"

He stopped short, hesitated for a moment, and then stepped forward to give me an awkward hug.

"Where are you headed?"

"I have a meeting at King's College. You?"

"Just exploring. Mind if I walk with you?"

We crossed the bridge, chattering about mindless things. Emmett insisted on walking me to campus. He claimed to be headed in that direction, wanting to explore some of the architecture in the area.

"What can I say? I like to see how these old places were made. Some of them were here long before the U.S. even existed. I am going to explore all the buildings that I have only read about." He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Would you mind if I called you this weekend?"

I thought about Rose's comment on my personal evolution. A month ago I would have run away, worried about what Mike would think.

"I'd like that, Emmett."

He gave me another one of his killer smiles, and waved goodbye.

I watched Emmett walk away. His exuberance was contagious. The people that he passed seemed to fall in step with him and share smiles. He was like a little ray of sunlight on a gloomy London afternoon.

I sounded like a Hallmark card.

It took me longer than anticipated to find Dr. Whitlock's office. The buildings were all clustered together, a maze of corridors and offices.

At five after four, I finally found the proper place. I was about to knock when the door flew open. A breathtakingly beautiful man stood in the entrance, a look of cool bemusement on his face.

I was caught off guard. He appeared so young.

"Dr. Whitlock?"

He chuckled and reached up to push his dark red hair away from his face. When he spoke, his voice was low with a melodic accent, different from the ones I had heard over the past twenty four hours.

"Jasper, your Yank is here."

He gave me a once over, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Excuse me, _darlin.'"_ He took on an affected southern accent at the pronunciation of the word darling. It seemed strange to hear a southern term of endearment from a Brit. Although the way he articulated, there was nothing endearing about it.

The man stepped around me and continued down the hallway. If I hadn't been so dumbfounded, I would have had a snarky come back.

"Ms. Swan?" Another man stood in the doorway now. Fair with blonde hair and blue eyes. "I'm Jasper Whitlock, please do come in."

What was it about London? There were gorgeous men everywhere.

He led me into a cluttered office, and gestured towards a free chair.

"I do apologize for my brother in law. His sense of humor can be a bit…irreverent." He settled into his desk chair, and leaned back to study me.

"A dissertation on _Dracula_. I have to say I am impressed. It's not a work that is often analyzed, especially in the way in which you intend. The fact that you are an attractive woman should make it that much more intriguing."

I felt my face color as my eyes darted to his hands. They were steepled below his chin. A gold band glinted from his ring finger.

"I am not trying to be rude or flirtatious. Merely stating the facts. My wife often accuses me of not always using my internal filter."

He was not at all what I had expected. With a name like Jasper, I had a mental image of an old man with a large noise and overabundance of ear hair. Dr. Whitlock couldn't be much older than I am.

We found comfortable topics quickly. We spoke of my dissertation, of Chicago, of my impressions of London. He offered up small anecdotes about his wife Alice. The way he spoke of her made it readily apparent that he was madly in love with her.

It was sweet. It also made me incredibly envious. I had spent four years in a relationship, yet I had never seen 'that' look on Mike's face in relation to me.

We spoke for a long time. At one point, Dr. Whitlock looked down at his watch.

"It's getting late. Do you have any plans for dinner? I was planning on meeting Alice at a pub not too far from here. I'm sure she would love to meet you."

"That's very kind of you, Dr. Whitlock. But I couldn't intrude."

"Nonsense. I know that you and Alice will be fast friends in no time." He stood and pulled a long trench coat from a coat tree in the corner. I had to laugh as I saw the flash of the Burberry plaid lining. I definitely wasn't in Chicago anymore. "Do you mind a short walk? It's not far from here at all."

Rose had mentioned that she would be working late. All I had waiting for me back at our flat was a pile of reading and some dubious left overs in the fridge.

"If I'm not going to be an inconvenience that would be wonderful. Thank you."

We covered the short distance to the pub quickly. Students along the way greeted Dr. Whitlock. He appeared to be very popular, especially with the female students.

"I think you'll find my wife a subject matter expert on top of an entertaining person. She grew up in Whitby."

My ears perked up at the mention of Whitby. The abbey, the church, the cliffs were all such a major part of the _Dracula_. I had every intention of spending as much time there as I could, and having someone who knew the area was all that much better.

"Dr. Whitlock, my plan…"

He cut me off. "Please, it's Jasper. Dr. Whitlock makes me feel ancient. I'll start using it after thirty."

I smiled. "Jasper, my plan was to spend some time at the library on campus to see if there was anything that you might have that would be new source material. I'd also like to get into the special collections if possible."

He returned my smile. "That can all be arranged. But no more talk of work tonight."

He held open the door to the pub, waiting for me to enter.

Inside, a tiny dark haired woman waived from the corner.

"There's Alice." Jasper guided me toward the table. The woman wore a radiant grin.

"You must be Bella! I am so excited to meet you!" Her hand shot out, pumping mine up and down. She may be tiny, but she was ridiculously strong.

"Please sit. I already order some starters. Would you like something to drink? I am not sure if they have any American beers…"

Alice was talking a mile a minute. Jasper placed a hand on her shoulder, and it was almost as though someone had unplugged her. Language slowed, her posture relaxed.

"Thank you, Alice. If you can recommend a beer that you prefer, I am sure I'll be fine." I gestured around the room, "When in Rome and all that."

The waitress appeared and took our drink orders. We then settled into easy conversation. Alice was fascinated with America, and peppered me with questions about Chicago. Apparently she had been after Jasper to visit the States for 'ages' but life kept getting in the way.

"Oh, Edward is here!" Her hand shot up in a wave similar to when we had entered.

"Introducing the Yank to all the local hot spots, are we?"

I recognized the voice immediately. I looked up to see the man from earlier today standing next to our table. He wore the same bemused expression, like he was enjoying his own personal joke.

"Did you meet already?" Alice asked, confused.

"Edward stopped by my office this afternoon. He displayed his impeccable manners upon his departure," Jasper replied dryly. "Bella Swan, my brother in law, Edward."

That's right; he had referred to him as his brother in law. I hadn't registered it at the time.

"Bella? An odd name. Did your mother have visions of your grandeur? The beautiful swan?"

"No," I immediately shot back. "She wanted me to be strong so she named me after Queen Isabella of Spain. She liked to think that I would command men to find new worlds on my behalf."

Edward barked out a dry laugh as he peeled off his coat and sat down next to Alice. My glimpse of him earlier had been enough to register that he was absolutely breathtaking. But here in the darker, golden light of the pub, there were no words. His hair hung down in his eyes, looking almost black in the low light. Piercing eyes gazed out from underneath the shock of hair, and gave me the sense that he could see right through me. It was all set off by incredibly pale, flawless skin.

A quick thought flashed through my head. If Emmett was the epitome of Quincey, then Edward was the Count. Dark, edgy, a little bit scary.

And sexy as hell.

Don't think that way! I chided myself. You'll slip up and call him Vlad. Now wouldn't that would be embarrassing. Try explaining that one.

Edward, Alice and Jasper slipped into comfortable banter. Alice was gracious and tried to include me where ever possible. She asked me a questions about my life in Chicago, my friends, my family. All the while, I could feel Edward staring at me.

It was unnerving.

I listened enough to learn that Alice worked in marketing for a major cosmetics firm, and Edward was a doctor at St Thomas's Hospital. They were two years apart in age. Alice met Jasper through Edward in college.

"Edward, you should tell Bella what you are working on right now; it would probably be of interest given the topic of her research."

Those intense green eyes shifted back to me. His gaze was so incredibly unsettling. I could tell that he was well aware of it. He was probably used to women dropping at his feet when he let loose that self satisfied little smirk.

"And what would that be?" He asked, his eyes never leaving my face.

"Dracula."

He laughed and took a sip from his pint.

"Well isn't that an interesting coincidence?" His eyes narrowed a bit as he spoke. "I am a hematologist."

I responded before I could think. "Ah, a modern day blood sucker."

A look of shock flickered on his face for a brief moment before his smile slipped back into place.

"I guess that is one euphemism. I am on the research side. Currently part of a team focused on cancer research."

"A benevolent blood sucker," I shot back. What was it about this man that got under my skin?

"Quite the oxymoron," He countered, that same self satisfied smirk on his face. "Kind of like a vegetarian vampire. Or a beautiful bookworm."

Neither Alice of Jasper seemed to pick up on the verbal sparring. I didn't disengage from Edward's gaze. Instead I raised an eye brow, waiting for the next jab. His smile broadened a bit, but he didn't re-engage.

I finished my beer and excused myself. I needed to use the restroom and collect my thoughts. Two brief conversations and this man was already under my skin, pushing buttons. He was intentionally trying to get a rise out of me. Goad the yank. I wasn't going to give in.

I took a long breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly to wash away the tension. One more pint, then I would head home. The night would be over, and the gorgeous antagonist would be gone.

The pub had grown crowded, and I had to dodge bodies to make my way back to the table. Halfway through the room, I felt a hand on my elbow. My hand curled into a fist instinctively, and I was ready to take a swing at whoever was set to accost me.

"Hello backpack girl." It was the man from the airport. The one who had helped collect everything that had spilled out of my back pack. "You look a bit more together today."

He wasn't trying to flirt or accost me; he was simply being polite and saying hello.

I relaxed my fist and smiled. "I'm sorry. Too much time in college bars. When men approach you like that where I am from, they aren't usually far off of a knuckle sandwich."

He chuckled and extended his hand. "No untoward thoughts. I simply wanted to say hello and introduce myself. Royce King."

I took his hand briefly. "Bella Swan."

His eyes swept the room, taking in the patrons. "Are you here alone?"

He must be looking for Rose. It was always that way. Once a man laid eyes on her, no other woman existed.

"I'm with some friends, but not Rose, the one you saw me with yesterday."

"Rose," He murmured under his breath. "How appropriate."

"I need to get back to my friends. It was nice to see you again, and to be formally introduced." I paused for a moment, contemplating. Rose had been working so hard for the past few months. She needed to have some fun as much as she thought I did.

"I don't know what our plans are for this weekend, but if you are interested, I can let you know what we end up doing."

He broke into a wide smile. "That would be lovely, thank you."

I returned to the table with his business card. Rose was going to owe me for this one.

We ordered another round of drinks, and the conversation stayed casual. Alice invited us to a party that she and Jasper were attending on Saturday, and begged me to bring Rose along. I had the feeling that Alice didn't know a stranger.

As drinks wound down, I stood, thanked everyone for a nice evening, and slipped on my coat. It had cooled down significantly, and I pulled my coat tighter around me to keep warm. A brisk walk would help clear my head as well as keep me warm.

"Come now," Edward's voice rang out. "I don't know about the men you keep company with in the States, but it's not proper to let a woman walk home alone at night. Especially not after a few pints."

He stood behind me, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. The cold brought out a flush in his skin.

Vlad indeed. He could be deadly in his own way.

"Thank you, Dr.…" I realized that all I knew was his first name.

"Masen. But I don't use the honorary. Just Edward is fine." His eyes swept up and down me again. I was glad I had taken the effort today. Nothing might come of it, but at least I didn't look like a ratty college student.

"And I can't very well let you walk home like that. You might be accosted. There are parts of the city that are rather dodgy, you know."

He pulled a set of keys out of his coat, and started down the street. When I didn't follow, he looked back over his shoulder.

"Come now, I don't bite. I'm benevolent, remember?"

Somehow, I highly doubted that to be true.


	5. Chapter 5

_Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose?_

_Bram Stoker's Dracula by Francis Ford Coppolla, 1992_

**Chapter 4 - Fire**

I followed him. I really didn't want to walk home; but it was cold. He wasn't some random stranger. Granted, I didn't know him, but I would be working with his brother in law on a regular basis.

He wouldn't try anything inappropriate.

Would he?

Did I want him to?

Why was I even thinking this way?

I cupped my hands over my mouth and blew on them in an attempt to distribute some warmth. Trying to buy time. What was I doing? I wasn't drunk. I'd only had two pints.

I don't do crazy things like get in cars with random strangers.

But right now, all I could think of was this gorgeous, infuriating man who was offering me a ride home. Maybe it was time I start listening to Rose. It wasn't quite dancing on a table, but it was the first step.

And he was British, after all.

Edward stopped in front of a sleek black car. He deactivated the alarm, opened his door and stood as if waiting for me. Crap, I am in England. That's the passenger side.

He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to get in. "Where am I taking you?"

Why did everything that came out of his mouth sound like either an insult or an innuendo?

I gave him my address and slid into the car. I hadn't realized how cold I was.

"Seat warmer is on the console if you'd like. There is blanket in the boot if you'd like me to get that for you."

"I'm fine, thank you." My arms were wrapped around my torso in an attempt to stay warm.

"No, you aren't. You are freezing. My word you are stubborn. Is this a Yank thing to always be rude, or is it just you?"

"I am not rude!" I shot back. "You are the one who's rude! You've been snarky since the moment we met. Did I do something to insult your sensibilities? Am I disturbing the cosmic balance for you or something?"

When I get agitated, I talk with my hands. By the time I got done with my mini rant, I was gesticulating wildly. Edward reached out and grabbed my right hand, dropping it onto the gear shift.

"No, you don't insult my sensibilities. I enjoy baiting you. You aren't pushed often, and it shows."

It was a simple statement. He was toying with me, trying to get a reaction.

It made me wonder what kind of reaction he wanted.

"Do you know how to drive a manual transmission?"

"Excuse me?" The question was so far out of left field, I was totally caught off guard.

"Simple question. Do you know how to drive a manual transmission?"

"Yes." I responded, confused at to his line of inquiry.

His smile grew a bit as he started the car. "Very well. You shift. It will give you something to do with your hand."

I was unsure whether it was meant as innuendo or commentary on my wild gesticulating. Either way it made me blush.

"Ah, I see there is something that can get you ruffled after all." He looked back over his shoulder, and then pulled out into traffic. "Second."

I pulled the gear shift down, feeling the lever catch.

"What makes you such an expert on what I do or don't need? We've had all of one conversation, and I don't think that many of my life secrets where revealed."

"Third, please." I moved the lever up to the third position. "You reveal more than you realize. Would you like the short summation?"

We stopped at an intersection. I instinctively moved the gear shift back to first.

"Please do. I am curious how you stretch your medical degree into the realm of psychiatry." The words were more cutting than I intended, but I couldn't help it. The man was infuriating.

"Very well. You don't take risks. Ever. Your life is predictable, structured, dare I say it, rather dull. You are running from something, although of what, I am not sure. Second, please."

I slammed the lever into second, maybe a bit more forcefully than I should have.

"Shall I proceed?"

When I didn't respond, he continued.

"I find it ironic that you are writing a dissertation on Dracula. It's about human nature, passion, instinct. I'm not sure if you have any experience with those concepts. Third, please."

I didn't even think, just moved the gear shift.

"_Gentle_. This isn't some low end Chevy that you can abuse." He paused and shot a look over at me. "Did I hit a nerve?"

"What makes you say all that? What makes you think that you know me so well?" I was seething. His words had struck a cord, but I didn't know why.

"It's easy. Part of it is in the way you talk. What you say, how you say it. It's also in the way you act and react. Aside from my provocations the closest you came to fire tonight was when that bloke approached you at the pub. I saw the fist you made. You were ready to drop him if you needed to, weren't you?"

I drew in a long breath. I hadn't realized he had been watching me.

"Yes, if I needed to."

He slowed to a stop in front of my flat. "I believe this is you?"

He placed his hand over the top of mine, and moved the gear shift into neutral, then released my hand to pull up the parking break. The contact sent a shock wave up my arm. I hadn't anticipated him touching me.

Edward shifted in his seat to look directly at me. "You spend all your life mapping things out. Planning, analyzing. You don't know how to live in the moment."

I couldn't move. I was mesmerized by him. He was only a few inches away. I could easily reach out and touch him.

I wanted to touch him. And he knew it.

He leaned a little bit closer.

I shifted in my seat so that I was fully facing him. I imagined that if I moved just a bit, I would feel his breath on my face.

He laughed and stared directly into my eyes. "You have no clue what to do when life is not planned out. You need to learn how to live on the edge, to take chances."

He stayed there, still, looking directly at me, that same self satisfied smirk on his face. I was waiting for him to do something, anything. My eyes darted quickly to his lips, then back to up. He saw it, and the smile broadened.

He reached up, and traced the edge of my lower lip with his thumb.

"It doesn't work that way. If you want it, you have to be willing to go after it." He could sense my indecision. "You are waiting for me to kiss you, or to touch you again. I am not going to. If you want something, you'll need to figure out a way to go after it on your own."

My eyes must have gone wide, as Edward laughed. "Oh this is going to be fun. You don't take risks, and you've never been pushed. I am going to enjoy getting to know you, Isabella."

It was the first time he had said my name since we met, and the sound of it gave me a chill. The man had barely even touched me, and I was ready to spontaneously combust.

"Goodnight, Isabella."

He was waiting for me to leave the car.

"Aren't you going to get my door?" I scrambled for something. He had opened the door for me to get in. I had to assume that he would do the same thing for me now.

Instead, Edward laughed, and stated simply, "No."

"Why not?" I cringed as soon as it was out. I sounded like a petulant child.

"Because you expect it. While I may be chivalrous, I won't be your foregone conclusion. Good night, Isabella."

My blood was boiling at that point. I threw open the door, snagging my boot heel as I clambered out of the car. I refused to let him see me embarrassed or flustered. I slammed the door and stomped towards the building.

"Isabella?" I heard him call behind me. "I'll see you soon."

Before I could say anything he pulled away from the curb.

"Of all the insufferable, pigheaded, arrogant…" I started to rant.

"Whoa. Who pissed in your cheerios?" Rose asked as she came up the sidewalk carrying her laptop case and a brown paper bag.

"Stupid….just…GAH!" I threw up my hands, disgusted that I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. I was mad, I was frustrated. And I was totally turned on by the arrogant jerk that was Dr Edward Masen.

"That good, huh? You sound like me today. Come on, I picked up some wine." She opened the building door, and we climbed the steps to the second floor.

"So what has you all wound up? I thought you were meeting the guy at Kings College."

I threw my coat over the back of a kitchen chair and sat down to pull my boots off.

"I did. He's a nice guy. Really young. He invited me out to dinner with his wife. We were hanging out talking when his brother in law showed up."

I pulled in a long breath, trying to collect my thoughts. "His absolutely gorgeous, totally infuriating brother in law, who succeeded in pushing buttons I didn't even know I had! Even worse, he's a freaking hematologist. Can you get any more ironic? He got me so fired up that I called him a modern day bloodsucker!"

"Ahhh, so that explains the hot Aston Martin pulling away. You have to make some serious money to afford one of those." Rose placed the wine bottle on the counter and dug through the drawer, looking for a cork screw. "Do you want some? I had a day, and could totally use a drink."

I waved her off. The last thing I needed was more alcohol.

Once the bottle was open, she poured a glass and sat down in the chair opposite me.

"It must be in the water today. There is a new guy at work. He's not supposed to start until tomorrow, but he popped in to say hello and check in. He wasn't there ten minutes and he was questioning my direction." She paused long enough to take a drink of wine. "He has all the women in the office swooning over him. Flashing the dimples and the down home charm. It was absolutely obnoxious!"

I had never heard Rose rattled over a guy before. He must have really done something to piss her off.

"So, what happened?"

She pushed her hair back from her face, and let out an exasperated sigh. "He starts looking over some of the design specifications that we had been working on, and pointed out a few errors. It isn't even his area of expertise! Not on the job yet, and he's already a pain in my ass."

Nothing pissed Rose off more than a man questioning her. All too often, she complained about men were so hung up on her looks they assumed she was stupid, and deferred to the men around her, regardless of level. The inference being that she wasn't capable of doing her job because she was attractive. I can't imagine working in such a male oriented, ego driven field. But Rose was a brilliant electrical engineer, and she ultimately proved them all wrong.

"So what did you do when he told one of the guys to change it?"

She paused for a second, taking in my question.

"He didn't. He told me where the errors were, and that was it."

"So why are you pissed? He didn't disrespect you; he just pointed out errors. Yeah it might be a bit presumptuous, but wouldn't you rather know they were there?"

Rose threw her hands up in the air. "I don't know, he's just so…so…"

"Insufferable? Infuriating?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed. "And even worse, he's really hot."

"Welcome to my world. Aren't we a fine pair?"

We spent the next hour talking about 'The Redneck,' as she had named him, and how the women in the office had gone all gaga over him. The more she spoke, the more I could see that Rose was just as affected as they were. But I knew better than to call it out.

"Oh, I almost forget, I ran into the airport Samaritan tonight. He seemed to be rather disappointed that you weren't with me."

The change in conversation from her nemesis at work to an interested male lightened Rose's mood significantly.

"Really? What did he say?"

"Nothing much." I reached into the pocket of my coat, producing the business card. "But I did get this for you…"

I waved the card around, just out of her reach.

"Give me that!" She all but lunged over the table to grab the card away.

"Jeez, Rose. Eager much?"

She read the card. "Royce King. Sounds like a proper British name, doesn't it? He may be just what I need to get 'The Redneck' out of my head."

"Be nice, Rose. Don't go eviscerating a man just because some poor schmo pissed you off."

The smile I got was down right angelic. I knew better.

"Rose…"

"I am just going to have a little fun. Follow a little of that sage advice I have been giving you. Why should you be the only one to kiss a Brit?"

Why did I have a feeling I was going to regret this?


	6. Chapter 6

**Excerpt, Journal of Dr Edward Masen**

It started out like any other day. Process, focus, structure. Repeat.

The mundane cycle of life is wearing on me. I chose this path. I chose research. I should be happy with this lot in life.

And yet I am not. I do good things. My work is for a good cause. But I am bored.

I left the office early to go see Jasper. I needed to keep the gloom at bay. It was nipping at my heels. I didn't want to go back to the dark thoughts, the regrets.

Jasper is always good for putting me at ease. He distracts. He soothes.

And the attractive female students that continuously pop by are not unwelcome either.

I probably should tell him that, on occasion, I've taken advantage of my proximity to lure one of his lovely students home. For a few hours, it makes me feel almost normal.

Jasper was at odds when I arrived today. He had an appointment with an American who 'came abroad' to do some research. He was to act as a sponsor for her of sorts. He was worried about the unrealistic expectations of the Yank, and what she would do to his course load.

I, myself, was curious. The women I had seen grace his door became less and less attractive the greater their level of education. Would this Yank be the same? I intentionally loitered until four o'clock just to see her. If nothing more, it would be a welcome distraction.

I masked my shock at her appearance with a glib comment and fled. I had thoroughly intended to stick around and tease the Yank. But her appearance shocked me to the core.

It was her. It couldn't be her. It wasn't possible. She was a ghost.

Alice invited me to dinner. I needed to talk to her. I needed to find out more about this American woman. Who was she? What was she doing here? Instead, I found her immersed in conversation with this girl. Alice had to see it, the resemblance was uncanny.

I checked my reactions. I knew it was foolish, but I had to find out more. I needed to know this woman. Find out what made her tick.

She was guarded, almost timid. What I would expect of a literature major; lives in books. So I tested her. I pushed. I needed to know what lurked underneath.

This woman, Isabella. Bella doesn't begin to capture her. She is more than the image. I was shocked by the visage, yet totally drawn in by the person. She was like an uncut diamond. With the right cultivation, the right polishing, she could be flawless. So much potential. It just needed to be drawn out.

And with a bit of pushing, it came bubbling to the surface. The spirit. The passion. I thought for a moment she was going to launch over the console at me. I would have enjoyed that entirely too much.

Everything about her calls to me. I had a momentary flash of Isabella, running around the ruins just like we had so many times when we were young. Her hair had been red instead of brown, but the face was always the same…

I kept my guard up, kept a semblance of control. But I will not stay away. I'll continue to see her. I told her as much.

But if anything happens between us, it will need to be at her initiation. I can't trust myself to open up to her.

She may be my ruin, but I can't stay away. I couldn't then. I won't now.


	7. Chapter 7

_Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble?_

Dracula, Bram Stoker

**Chapter 5 - Between the Lines**

I ran into Jasper at the library on campus Thursday afternoon.

"Are you getting acclimated? Finding everything okay?"

He smiled and waved at a group of passing co-eds. They all giggled and waved back. What a flirt.

"Yes, thank you. This library is fabulous." I had uncovered a series of literary criticisms that, while not revolutionary, did give me a few key thoughts to noodle on.

"Alice wanted to pass along an invitation for Saturday. What was intended to be a dinner party has evolved to a night out. Apparently a band that Alice enjoys is playing at a local club. We'd love to have you and your flat mate join us if you are free."

I hadn't made any plans for the weekend on the off chance that I would somehow be able to see Edward again. He'd been on my mind non stop since he dropped me off Tuesday night. I couldn't rationalize my reactions to him, but I knew I wanted to see him again, badly.

It infuriated me to be so taken by someone that I instinctively wanted to dislike. Even more infuriating was the fact that, after one meeting, I would find myself thinking about the 'good doctor' at the most inopportune moments.

"That would be great, Jasper. I think we would both enjoy it."

He gave me directions to the club, as well as Alice's cell phone number should anything arise. I wanted to ask who else might be there, but felt awkward inquiring.

I promised myself that I'd be mentally prepared this time. There was no way he would be able to rattle me again.

After my tirade on Tuesday night, I didn't mention Edward to Rose again. She was distracted by 'The Redneck', and had come home Thursday evening spewing venom. Apparently she had a legitimate challenger for golden girl status. Rose didn't share the limelight well.

Friday afternoon, I was on my way home from campus, when my cell phone rang. I didn't look at the caller ID. I should have. I wouldn't have answered.

"Hello, Bella." I could hear a keyboard clicking in the background. I looked at my watch. It was 9 am in Chicago.

"Hello, Mike. What can I do for you?" My tone was cool. Our last conversation had not been a pleasant one, and I didn't want him to think that he was forgiven.

"How is London?" The clicking continued in the background.

"Good. I'm settled in, our flat is great, and the people at Kings College have been more than gracious."

I was careful not to give too much detail, but disclosed enough to let him know that things were good, and I was not regretting my decision.

Not that I was. But I didn't want to give him any room for I told you so's.

"I'm happy for you. I know how important this paper is to you." He hesitated for a moment. "Listen, Bella…I realize that I said some pretty hateful things the last time we spoke. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, and I really wanted to talk."

I sighed. Too little, too late. He had four years to clue in, and he's doing it now?

"We've said all there is to say, Mike. Let's just agree that it's water under the bridge and move on, okay?"

The clicking had stopped.

"What if I don't want to move on, Bella? What if I realized that I was wrong?"

I stopped walking. A lot of things I might have expected, but Mike admitting he was wrong was not one of them. Mike was never wrong. At least not in his mind.

"Bella, look, I realize that I was being a self centered ass. I've had a lot of time to think, and I really do get it now. I wasn't supportive of you, of what you wanted. I could have done a better job."

He sounded sincere. There had to be something else going on. I stayed quiet, listening.

Waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.

"Look, I know you just got over there, but I miss you. We haven't seen each other in over a month. I don't like that you are so far away. I just want you to be here, to be able to work through everything."

I sighed. There it was. It always came back to him, what he wanted. Me me me. I I I.

"Mike, listen, I'm sorry that you are feeling bad. But we need this time apart. I need to get my dissertation done. I've worked too hard not to see it through, and I can already tell that being here is going to do me a world of good."

"Bella, what can you do there that you can't do in Chicago? Come home, baby. I'll change. I promise I'll change. You can move in, just like we always talked about. You won't have to worry about rent, just work on your paper, and when you're done, we can pick back up with everything we planned."

I rubbed my eyes with my free hand. I didn't want to have this discussion anymore. I was tired of focusing on what he always wanted.

"No, Mike. I'll be here in London for six months. Maybe longer."

I heard his sharp intake of breath. I don't know where my comment of 'maybe longer' came from. It was a low blow, but he needed to realize that I wasn't going to come running back to Chicago and his open arms.

"Look, Mike, I need to go. I have plans this evening. Maybe we can talk again in a few weeks."

"Bella, wait…"

"Goodbye Mike." I disconnected my phone and tapped it against my chin, lost in thought.

I stood him down. I didn't give in.

Just a few months ago I would have gone running home.

Six months ago I would have never gotten on the plane in the first place.

The remainder of my walk back to the flat was spent reflecting on just how many changes I had made in a short period of time. One led to another which led to another. It all started with my decision to come to London.

To do something for myself.

Maybe Edward hadn't been too far off base in his assessment. Maybe I hadn't been living.

Saturday morning, Rose and I went shopping on Marleybone High Street. I was usually ambivalent about my appearance, but tonight I wanted the upper hand. I didn't want Edward to know just how much he got to me. And maybe, just maybe, I could look good enough to throw him off as well.

We were walking out of shop when my cell phone rang. Not to be burned again, I checked the display before answering. I couldn't help but smile.

"Hey stranger! How was your first week?"

I almost had to hold my phone out away from my ear,. Emmett's laugh was so loud.

"Interesting. I survived, and I think I am getting used to the time change. What are you up to?"

"5'3 if I stand up really straight," I quipped. Rose did a double take, eyes wide. "How about you? 6'4 isn't an answer."

"6'5 if you must know. And not much. A bunch of the things I had shipped over showed up yesterday, so I am making my new digs into a down right All American bachelor pad. I have my Titans helmet, my Nationals pennants, and my LeBron Fathead."

I had to laugh. Emmett sounded like a teenager tricking out his first dorm room, not a grown man with a successful career.

"I bet Martha Stewart has nothing on you."

"So what are you doing tonight?" He definitely didn't beat around the bush. "Hot date with a Limey stiff?"

"No, my roommate and I are going to go hear a band play. One of the guys who is helping me on my dissertation invited us to go with him and his wife."

I gave Emmett the name of the club. Hopefully Jasper and Alice would be okay with another person stopping in.

When I disconnected, Rose immediately went for the jugular.

"Since when do you flirt?"

I tried to look innocent. "I wasn't flirting. I was being nice."

"Oh no no no. That was most definitely flirting. I all but wrote the book on it. Now spill. Who was it?"

I felt the read start to creep in to my cheeks. Damn blush always gave me away.

"Bella…."

I huffed out a breath. "Fine, it was the hot guy from business class. The one with the arms."

I was never as afraid as I was of Rose in that moment. The look on her face was one of absolute glee. She rubbed her hands together, and looked an awful lot like a mad scientist.

"Is he coming tonight?"

"He might…" I didn't like her tone.

"He's not British, but it will work. Do we need to make you look fuckable?"

"Rose!" If my face wasn't already bright red, it was now. I should be used to how crude Rose could be, but it's totally different when applied to me.

"It doesn't mean you have to do anything, Bella. It's more for your mental state than his."

We stopped to get coffee. I thought about what she said. I did want to look good, and I did want to bring someone to their knees. It just wasn't Emmett.

Was I seriously thinking about this?

"Earth to Bella…" I heard Rose calling.

"Sorry, just thinking."

"You've been distracted all morning. Don't blame it on the hottie from business class, because I noticed it long before he called. Now spill. What's on your mind?"

I was distracted, but I wasn't ready to let delve into Edward. So I went with option number two, and admitted that Mike had called. Our cab ride home gave me enough time to recount the conversation. Rose, as I had expected, was pissed off. She blamed Mike for a number of wasted opportunities.

"I have to admit, Bella. I am proud of you. Last year you would have run home to him at his first request."

"Actually, let's be honest. I wouldn't have ever left Chicago."

She smiled. "At least you see it now. I know you don't want to hear it, Bella, but leaving him and coming to London was the best thing you ever could have done. You've changed so much. I mean, come on, you flirted with a guy today. Even better, a guy you hardly know."

She threw her arms around me and squeezed. "My little girl is growing up!"

"Don't go getting all gushy on me, Carol Brady. I admit, I am coming out of my shell a bit, but I am still me."

We paid the cab driver, and claimed our bags from the boot. I was slowly picking up British colloquialisms, and had to admit that I was enjoying them. The other day someone declared "Bob's your uncle!" I had to run home and google it so I could understand what they meant.

"So, little miss butterfly, are we going to vamp you out tonight? Pun intended."

"Ha ha. Very funny." She worked in vampire jokes wherever she could. She even gave me black nail polish for Christmas one year. It was fun to explain the difference between goth and vampire.

Rose and I met in our senior year of college. She had been fixed up on a blind date with one of Mike's fraternity brothers. The date had been an absolute disaster, ending in the guy having a frozen margarita dumped on his head. When I asked him if I could stick the paper umbrella behind his ear, I made a friend for life.

On the surface, you wouldn't think that Rose and I would have anything in common. Our looks, interests, and aptitudes were all totally different. Tall and blonde vs. short and dark. Mathematics vs. literature. Cars vs. museums. Yet for some reason, we just clicked. Maybe it was because we were so different; we complemented each other so well.

We lived together for two years in Chicago. She saw me through more than her share of Mike blow ups. In return, I saw her through more bad blind dates and fix ups than I

could count on the national debt clock. In the end, it always came back to the two of us. Our friendship was the bedrock. If one of us didn't approve, the guy didn't stand a chance.

Mike never got that. In the end, it may have been a large contributor to our demise. To me, friends are just as important as family.

Rose, unfortunately, had yet to find a guy that could even be deemed "meet the friend' worthy status. She had so much going on, but relationships seemed to evade her.

"Did I tell you that I called Mr. King?" Rose called from her bedroom. She over annunciated on his name, mimicking the accent that we were becoming so accustomed to.

"No! When!"

"Yesterday. I needed to blow off some steam after another go around with The Redneck. I swear that man lives to goad me. Anyway, he asked me out for tonight. I told him I had plans, but might have given him the name of where we would be. I hope that's okay."

"Rose, if I told Mr. Business Class to come, why wouldn't it be okay for you to invite Royce? The more the merrier."

I picked up the remote and cycled through the satellite channels until I found the one I wanted. Might as well start the evening with a little good ole fashioned rock and roll.

Before I could turn the volume up to eleven, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find a delivery man holding a box.

"Rose Hale?"

"She's occupied. Can I help you?"

He pulled a large bouquet of violets, wrapped in trails of yellow ribbon. "That would be for Miss Hale."

He also handed me a small white cardboard box. "And this was propped against your door. Have a lovely day."

I thanked him and closed the door. "Hey Rose, you got flowers."

She sprinted into the living room and grabbed the bouquet out of my hand.

"Who are they from?"

She tore open the card, and smiled.

"Royce. To match my eyes. He's good."

"How did he get our address?"

"I told him where we lived." She looked up to see me holding the white box. "What's that?"

"I don't know. The delivery guy said it was propped against the door. My name is written on top."

I opened the box. Nestled inside was a branch that had been pruned from a wild rose bush.

"Ouch!" I pulled back my hand to suck on my thumb. The thorns hadn't been removed, and one of had embedded itself deep enough to draw blood.

Still sucking on my thumb, I retrieved the note stuck inside with my other hand and awkwardly shook it open.

_Superstition says that wild roses can immobilize a vampire. Not sure if you had run across that in your research yet. Thought having one handy might be helpful should you run into one, benevolent or not. You never know when you might need to stop one in their tracks._

There was no signature. I didn't need one. I knew exactly who it was from. He's good indeed.

"So? Who is it from?" Rose pulled the note out of my hand and studied the message. "Leave it to you to find a man who is actually interested in Dracula. So is this good?"

I thought about her question. As infuriating as Edward was, he had indicated that he would see me again. And he did send me flowers, albeit in a rather unorthodox manner.

"Come on, Rose. You get your wish. Let's go vamp me out."


	8. Chapter 8

_When other little girls wanted to be ballet dancers I kind of wanted to be a vampire._

Angelina Jolie

**Chapter 6 - Perceptions**

Some things are quintessentially American. Baseball. Apple Pie.

Rock and Roll.

The band that Alice was all fired up to see had a soft spot for 90's rock and grunge. I wasn't sure what I had anticipated, but is sure as heck wasn't Foo Fighters and Red Hot Chili Peppers covers.

The crowd at the club was younger, mostly in their twenties, and boisterous. There was no standing and listening. Bodies moved to the rhythm, and given the right song, there might even be some moshing.

"This is nuts!" Rose shouted over the music. "I feel like I am at home!"

Alice grinned as she tapped her foot to the beat. "This is one of my favorite places. It drives Jasper batty. He's much more of a jazz and blues aficionado."

We settled at a table with our drinks during a break in the music. Royce stood at the bar talking with some of the men that had come with him. He kept his body angled at all times so that he could see Rose.

"Where did you land him?" Alice was fascinated by how smitten he already was with her. "He's quite the toff."

"Bella's backpack decided to rebel at the airport. He was nice enough to help us retrieve everything. He is kinda cute, isn't he?"

"What are you doing over here? Why not go chat him up?"

I laughed. Alice had yet to be exposed to Rose's rules.

_#1: Men always come to you._

"Speaking of men, I hope you don't mind, I invited Edward along. He had something going on earlier in the evening, but was hoping to be here by the second set."

"Why would I mind? He's your brother after all."

She smiled at me, all innocence and sunshine. "I wasn't sure how you would feel after that little sparring match you two had the other night."

"Bella sparred with someone? My Bella? Has the earth stopped turning?"

"Ha, very funny Rose." I took a drink of my pint. "Edward pushed a few buttons, that's all."

Alice smiled and whispered conspiratorially to Rose. "You should have seen them. I didn't know if she wanted to hit him or shag him."

I felt my cheeks flush. I thought the conversation had gone unnoticed.

"Would this have been Tuesday night?" Rose asked, her interest piqued.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it was."

"Tell me, Alice, does your brother drive a black Aston Martin?"

Shit. I was cornered.

"Yes, but how did you know that?" Alice looked confused.

"Well that explains the rant I saw on the sidewalk after a lovely black Aston Martin pulled away. Is there anything else you would like to tell us, Bella?"

I looked back and forth from Alice to Rose.

"Yeah, I think I need another drink. Would anyone like anything?"

I escaped to the bar before they could ask anything more.

"What can I get you, love?" The bartender asked as he popped the top off a bottle.

"A shot of tequila and another pint please." I leaned forward to rest my elbows on the bar. If I was going to survive this night, I was going to need a bit of liquid courage.

I felt a tug on my elbow. Rose stood next to me, a look of dismay on her face.

"The fucking Redneck is here. I can't deal with his shit tonight. Do you mind if I bail? You'll be okay to get home?"

I looked around the room, trying to identify her source of frustration.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I can catch a ride home or flag a cab."

Rose slipped in next to Royce and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, waved a goodbye to his friends, and led her out of the club.

Was her nemesis here, or had she simply wanted to leave with Royce? I may need to think long and hard about what time I go home tonight. There is no telling what I could walk into. I didn't want to sleep with my headphones on. I've done it before. Rose was not quiet when she had a 'sleepover.'

I tossed back my shot, cringing at the burn of the alcohol as it ran down my throat. I quickly chased the tequila with a sip from my pint.

"Anesthetizing already?" I didn't have to turn around. I knew the voice.

"Yes. I heard you might be here. I figured I should be prepared."

"Ouch. Hello to you too, Isabella. You look very rock and roll."

I set down my pint and turned to face Edward. I knew I looked good; he did make a comment about my appearance after all. It didn't go unnoticed. Time for him to be the one thrown for a loop.

My intent was to toss out some smart alec comment to put him in his place. I wanted him to be the one affected. He should feel like a blithering idiot.

But every clever line or pithy remark dried up the minute I focused in on him. The crowd at the bar didn't allow for the normal personal space, and he was closer to me than he'd been in the car the other night. He wore the same amused expression, which made him look all that much more amazing. And those eyes, oh my god those eyes.

I didn't know what to do. What to say.

Someone bumped into me, knocking me forward into Edward. His hands went up immediately in an attempt to steady me. It was the same shot of electricity that I had felt in the car.

The amused look was gone, replaced by a darker expression. His left hand was at the small of my back, and I felt him pull me in closer. I couldn't resist, my eyes darted back to his lips. What was the lure of this man?

The hand that had been on my upper back was suddenly tracing slowly underneath my jaw, stopping over the pulse point on my neck.

I felt my face color, giving me away. He caught it too, and smiled.

The arrogant bastard. He wanted to see if he could get a rise out of me.

"I thought you said if I wanted something, it was up to me to take it. That you wouldn't touch me again." I don't know how I formed the words. I didn't want him to let go.

"That I did. Breach in judgment." He dropped his hands and stepped back.

I immediately missed the contact. How could he be so infuriating and attractive at the same time?

Needing to regain control of the situation, I took a sip of my pint and looked around the club. Edward stepped in next to me and ordered one as well.

"Thank you for my surprise today. It was very clever. How did you know about the wild rose myth?"

The look of amusement was back on his face. "I grew up in Whitby. Vampire mythology is required course work."

"Bella! Hey, there you are!" A man's voice with an American accent rang out from behind me. There was Emmett, a few feet away, dimples flashing.

"Hey, you made it!" I took advantage of the break in conversation to step further away from Edward, an attempt to break his spell.

That's exactly what it was, a spell.

"This place is a madhouse! Thanks for the invite. Who would have thunk we'd be rocking out to some all American tunes here?"

I could see Edward out of the corner of my eye, sizing Emmett up. Take that Dr. Masen, other men are interested in me too. You might have to wait in line.

"I'm sorry. Emmett McCarty, Edward Masen."

Emmett extended his hand, "How's it going?"

I almost expected Edward to walk away. For a moment, he looked furious. Then, as quickly as he had before, he regained his composure and extended his hand.

"Another yank. There seems to be all sorts of you tonight."

Emmett laughed off the comment, shook Edward's outstretched hand, and stepped up to the bar to order a drink. He launched into a long winded summary of his week, including some ice queen at work who was 'busting his balls' to no end.

As much as I enjoyed Emmett's light heartedness, part of me wanted to go back to when it was just Edward and I. His attitude was exasperating. He was arrogant, pompous, and absolutely infuriating. Yet at the same time, he was clever and intriguing.

And all I could think about was getting my hands in his hair and sticking my tongue down his throat. I'm Bella Swan. I don't do stuff like that.

Alice had called it right. I didn't know whether I wanted to hit him or shag him. It scared me.

At some point, the music had started back up, and Alice and Jasper joined us at the bar. I made introductions, and Emmett and Jasper found a rapport over sports. I noticed Alice shooting surreptitious glances at Edward, then back to me.

At one point, she and Edward exchanged a long look. He raised his eyebrow at her in expression that I would interpret as 'What?" She inclined her head and returned the same look. Almost as if to say 'You know.'

I needed a break from the noise and the anxiety that had knotted up inside me. When the band was stopped to change instruments, I leaned in to whisper to Alice.

"Going out for some air, back in a bit."

I slipped out the front of the club, and made my way down the street to where I could lean against a wall. It was cold, but the fresh air helped push away the smell of smoke and beer. I pulled in a few deep breaths, enjoying the crisp feeling of the night air.

"It's not safe for you to be out here alone. You never know who might swoop in and try to accost you."

I kept my eyes closed. I had come out here to clear my head. That included him.

"I'm fine. I just needed a breather. I don't need anyone to baby sit me."

"You'll catch your death out here."

I didn't want him to be here. If I didn't look at him, maybe he would get the hint and go away.

The noise from the club, or the sound of the cars, must have masked his footsteps. I didn't register the sound of him moving closer. I didn't realize he was standing next to me until I felt his arms wrap around me. He pulled me in close and ran his hands up and down my back in an attempt to chafe some warmth into me.

"You are damned stubborn. Can't you just acknowledge that I want to be out here with you?"

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" I brought my hands up to his chest in an effort to push him away. "I know that you have fun fucking with my head, but I can't deal with this. I am not a game!"

I felt totally vulnerable and exposed. I didn't understand all these feelings and reactions he brought out in me, and I didn't trust my judgment.

But instead of letting me go, Edward pulled me in tighter.

"You aren't a game. I wish you were, lord help me I wish you were. But I can't get you out of my head."

I didn't need to hear this. I pushed my hands against his chest in an attempt to break free.

"Isabella, stop. You need to hear me out, please."

I tried to push away again, but it was feeble effort at best. I liked the feeling of his arms around me.

"Say that you'll spend the day with me. I'll take you to the some of the places that you'll need to find for your research, and we can talk. Please?"

I didn't trust myself to speak. I nodded, my eyes still closed. His head dropped to my shoulder, and I could feel his breath on my neck.

"God help me, I want to stay away from you, vampire girl. But I can't."

I pulled in a sharp intake of breath as I felt his lips on exactly the spot where his hand had traced earlier at the bar. First a hesitant kiss, gentle. Then his tongue ran over the same spot. My hands were still against his chest, and they twisted into the material of his jacket and I dropped my head to the side in anticipation of more.

Without warning he dropped his arms and walked away.

"Your friend Emmett will give you a ride home. Please be safe."

And he was gone.

I slid down the wall until I was in a kneeling position. My arms instinctively wrapped around my knees.

What the hell am I doing? I'm here to work on my dissertation. I just got out of a long term, totally unfulfilling relationship. I didn't need a man around confusing my already mixed up life. This time was for me to figure out what came next.

I didn't even know who I was. How the hell was I going to figure him out?

I took one more deep breath, and then stood up. I needed to go back inside. Get something to drink, preferably non alcoholic, and get my head on straight.

Emmett and Jasper were still deep in conversation. Emmett gave me a wave as he saw me return.

"You look bloody awful. What happened?" Alice inquired. I could hear legitimate concern in her voice.

"Just a little overwhelmed is all. I'll be fine, Alice."

"My brother does tend to do that to a girl." She paused, gauging my reaction. "Although, it is a bit nice to see it turned around on him for once. He can't always have the upper hand."

I ran my hand over my face, trying to compose myself.

"Things are just confusing right now is all, Alice. I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will. Him, not so much."

"I think I am going to call it a night." I waved at Emmett and hooked my thumb in the direction of the door.

"Are you headed home?" He called after me.

"Yes, I am beat."

"Can I call you tomorrow? I was thinking we could go sightseeing."

"I'd like that."

I gave Jasper a wave, pulled on my coat, and headed for the door. It was easy enough to catch a cab, and soon enough, I was safely ensconced in our flat. It was quiet, and I couldn't tell if Rose had come home yet.

I sat down on the sofa, and opened the note that had come with the rose. I re-read it, wondering if immobilization meant something other than what I had originally interpreted.


	9. Chapter 9

**Masen Family Email Exchange**

_To: Alice Whitlock, Edward Masen_

_From: Elizabeth Masen_

_Subject: Old Friends_

Hello Chickens –

I've been meaning to send this note for eons, but time keeps getting away from me. Some mother I am!

Wanted to let you both know that I was in town, and bumped into Siobhan and Liam. They have finally decided to sell the house. They were clearing everything out, and wanted to know if there was anything that either of you might want of Maggie's.

I debated for a long time on whether or not to say anything, but realised it had been long enough, that it was all water under the bridge now. So please do let me know.

Hope all is well. Alice, kisses to Jasper for me. And Edward, thank you for the lovely rose bush you had delivered, it will look perfect in the garden.

Mum

**#**

_To: Edward Masen_

_From: Alice Whitlock_

_Subject: FW: Old Friends_

Okay Mr. Stubborn. I know you, and I know where your head is at. If this isn't a sign to move on, I don't know what is.

And don't go getting all brassed off at me. I saw the way you stared at Bella. So what if she looks like Maggie. It's a physical resemblance only. You put all this front and bluster, but you fancy her, I can see that. It's nice to see a woman not chasing after you. Keeps your ego in check and all that.

So can you please put it to rest? Maggie is gone, Edward. She's not coming back.

**#**

_To: Alice Whitlock_

_From: Edward Masen_

_Subject: RE: FW: Old Friends_

Since when do you have a crystal ball? You can't tell the future, so why do you insist making declarations about which you have no clue?

Yes, I realize that Maggie is gone. She has been for more than a decade. As for what I chose to do or not do to Isabella, it is absolutely none of your business, darling little sister.

Nicely said, sod off.

**#**

_To: Edward Masen_

_From: Alice Whitlock_

_Subject: RE: FW: Old Friends_

Don't pull that with me. You went arse over elbow the minute you saw Bella. I know you way too well, brother mine.

Since you are going to be obtuse, I will lay it on the line for you. You are attracted to her. She is attracted to you. Anyone can see that. Her flat mate Rose told me that she just got out of a long term relationship with some milquetoast of a man who treated her like a doormat. She isn't up to your mind fuckery, brother dear. She's a sweet and inexperienced, with shite for romantic experience.

So unless you are legitimately interested in her, you better damn well cut it out. She's a nice girl who doesn't deserve to get fucked over by a stupid git named Edward Masen.

**#**

_To: Alice Whitlock_

_From: Edward Masen_

_Subject: RE: FW: Old Friends_

Fine. I noticed the resemblance too.

Thank you for the support, sister dear. What or who I plan to fuck with is none of your business. Isabella seems more than capable of handling herself.

Are you happy now? Am I still a git?

I think I am. But what else is new.


	10. Chapter 10

_King Laugh he come like the sunshine, and he ease off the strain again; and we bear to go on with our labour, what it may be._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 7 - If Only**

Emmett called first thing Sunday morning from some obscure building in London he'd been dying to see. He was chomping at the bit to hit the tourist circuit, and begged me to accompany him in his 'ugly American' behavior. His enthusiasm was too infectious to deny, and I promised to meet him in front of The Tower of London at ten. We would grab something to eat and then take a tour. He wanted to see the crown jewels and the armor. I wanted to see the Ravens and the Tower Green.

Rose wasn't up when I left the flat. I didn't see any evidence that would lead me to believe anyone else had stayed overnight. Maybe her reaction had been a legitimate knee jerk reaction to seeing her nemesis from work after all.

I arrived at the fortress a bit before ten. A line was already forming, so I went ahead and purchased tickets to avoid the wait. I just cleared the queue when Emmett came bounding up the walkway. He carried a tray with two insulated cups and a paper bag.

"Breakfastime!" He crowed.

"I thought we were going to grab something around here?"

"I found this great French bakery by my office." He grinned. "They have awesome croissants, so I picked some up. I just got the cappuccinos, so they should still be hot."

"Croissants and cappuccinos? Doesn't sound very West Virginian to me."

Emmett gave me a grin and answered in an over annunciated southern drawl. "Don't tell my Momma. She thinks I am still a biscuits and gravy type of boy."

We sat down on a bench and dug into the improvised picnic. Emmett was right, the croissants were amazing.

"So how are things going at work? You mentioned that there is a woman giving you a hard time?"

Emmett sat his coffee cup on the bench behind us, and reached inside his coat pocket to fish out a pair of sunglasses.

"I was probably being harsh last night. This woman just gets to me, ya know? She's smart as hell, but has a massive chip on her shoulder. If you question her or try to help, she flips out."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. I asked her to lunch in an attempt to bury the hatchet. She totally blew me off. She thinks I am putting the moves on her."

"She'll come around, Emmett. Especially if all you are doing is trying to help."

"Yeah, I guess you are right." He hesitated for a moment. "Bella, she is so absolute amazing, but she can be such a bitch sometimes. I don't know how to reach her."

We sat in silence, watching the crowds filter into the tower. At some point when I was off in space or watching the crowd, Emmett draped his arm across the bench behind me. His arm wasn't officially 'around me,' but it was pretty darn close.

"So what was the deal with the limey you were with last night? The red headed one?" Emmett over annunciated on limey. Here a week and already picking up the local slang.

My original reaction to Emmett on the plane had been entirely physical. He was absolutely adorable, and had a body to die for. But the more time I spent with him, I wanted him to be my friend. I didn't have any business getting involved with anyone, and I liked him too much to risk our time together.

"I don't know, Em." I fidgeted with my coffee cup, trying to come up with a logical summation. "He's Jasper's brother in law. I met him on Tuesday. I can't explain what it is…he just makes me react. I know that doesn't make sense…"

"Oh it makes absolutely sense. Like you can't decide whether you want to throw him out of the wagon or into the hay?"

I laughed. "That is one way to put it. An English aquaitance called it out as 'sock him or shag him,' but it all works. Anyway, I'm not used to anyone making me feel that way. He sees it too; he called me out on it first thing. God, I just got out of a crappy four year relationship, I don't need to jump into something else."

"Do you still have a thing for the other guy? The one you left behind?" It was an innocent question, but I struggled to answer it.

"How do you abandon feelings for someone you spent four years with? I'm young enough that four years is a huge portion of my life. I can't help but think about that."

"But do you still love him?" Emmett's expression was earnest. He was only trying to help me sort through my thoughts, not pry.

"No. Looking back on it now, I don't know if I ever really did. Is that a bad thing to say?"

"Absolutely not. I give you a lot of credit for that. It would be easy to try and delude yourself into trying to make it be something more than it was. Do you mind me asking why it didn't work out?"

I thought for a long time. "I've come to realize that life with Mike was safe. But with him, I lost me, if that makes sense. I might not be the most exciting person, but I am who I am. Not some cardboard prop up for partner's dinners and family events. That's what I felt like."

Emmett took a long drink of his cappuccino before setting it down on the ground. I had expected him to sit back against the bench, but instead, he leaned in to kiss me.

It caught me totally of guard. At first I didn't know what to do, so I didn't do anything. But then I decided to go with it, to see if I responded to him the same way I did Edward.

Part of me hoped that Emmett could get the same rise out of me that Edward did.

I won't lie, he was a great kisser. Not the type to be overly aggressive. He went for the slow build. A few slow pecks before becoming a little more aggressive. It was nice.

But it was _nice_.

He sat back. "Did it work?"

"I'm sorry?" I was confused. Did what work?

"Did it get him out of your head?" He was legitimately curious.

"No." I had to be honest with him. It was only fair. "Did it get her out of yours?"

He gave me a halfhearted smile.

"Aren't we a pair? When I found you were going to be spending time in London, I thought there might be a chance for us. And here we are both jonesing after someone who gets under our skin, pushes us to our limits, and will most likely drive us crazy."

I appreciated his candor in that moment. He had the same quandary that I did and was no happier about it.

"It probably would have been the easier way, wouldn't it?" I asked, acknowledging his admission.

"Yeah, it would have been. But we would have missed the highs, wouldn't we?"

"You aren't kidding. Although somehow, I don't think you'd ever be accused of being Vanilla." I stood up and held out my hand. "Come on, lets go make puerile jokes like 'who's sword is bigger.'"

"I like the 'nice lance. That's what she said' approach so much better. More room to play." That earned him a punch in the arm.

We spent the rest of the morning wandering through the tower. As expected, Emmett's sword jokes were better than mine.

Around one, we found ourselves outside by the tower green. The sun was still shining, and it was nice to enjoy a bit of warmth.

"So you never told me, why would you write a dissertation on _Dracula_ and sexuality of all things?"

"Do you know, no one has ever asked me that? Why _Dracula_, sure, but never the actual subject matter." I picked up a leaf and twirled it between my fingers. "I read it when I was a sophomore in high school and fell in love with it. It fell in line with a bunch of other gothic novels I had read, like _Jane Eyre_ and _Wuthering Heights_. But something about it stuck with me. I think I had a bit of a fan girl crush on Dracula, even though he was the bad guy."

I tossed the leaf up in the air watched the wind carry them away.

"So many of the gothic novels focused on the impact of personal choices, but none like _Dracula_. Factor in the whole sexual imagery – biting, blood, transfusions; then contrast the whole Victorian uptight nature. Well, you are a guy, you can figure it out…it just seemed like a great source to mine."

"So it all goes back to the whole angel/whore conundrum?" Leave it to Emmett to boil it down to plain language. Simple and to the point.

"Something like that. I guess it was my way of being provocative." We both laughed. It did sound funny given the subject matter. "I am so tired of the stereotypes; I guess I just wanted to do something different."

"There is an irony in this, Bella Swan. The things that draw you to the book, or for the period for that matter, are the bad boys. A guy with an edge. That's hardly Vanilla"

"You know what, Emmett, you may have hit on something. I have Byronic Hero lust."

"That sounds like a social disorder."

"It very well could be."

We finished our tour with a bang. Emmett got a bit too vocal while providing pithy observations on the crown jewels, and we were 'invited to leave.'

"What can I say, I'm a large child!" He laughed as we left the underground station in Waterloo. "Stuff that big and gaudy just cries for social commentary."

"Somehow I doubt 'those can't be real' counts as social commentary, Em."

"Like I haven't used it before. The difference being, I can usually feel the difference." His hands were out palms extended, a mischievous grin on his face. I couldn't help but giggle.

Our conversations shifted with our acknowledgment that there would be no romantic developments. Our heads, hearts or hormones were clearly elsewhere. I wasn't lying. It would have been easier. But then it wouldn't have been any different from Mike. In a way, it made me sad. Someone would be lucky to land Emmett. He was amazing.

We came to a stop in front of my building.

"This is my place. Would you like to come up? Maybe order some takeout before you head home?"

Emmett consulted his watch. "Sure. I have some work to do, but I can hang out for a bit more."

We climbed the stairs to the flat. The bolt was shot, which meant that Rose wasn't home.

"Make your self comfortable. I'm not sure where my roommate is. You good with pizza?"

"Yes, please. I swear if someone tries to get me to eat curry again, I'll super glue my lips shut. I don't know how people eat that stuff."

I placed the order and dropped down on the couch.

"So what are you going to do about the woman at work?"

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know. Everything I do seems to set her off. I wish I could get her outside of work, convince her to listen to me. I know she'll think it's just about her looks. I mean she's an absolute knock out. But it's more than that. She's so damn smart and funny. She's truly one of a kind."

"Why not tell her exactly that? It would work for me."

Emmett considered me for a moment. "Do you really think it would be that simple?"

"Why not? Nothing else is working, right?"

A knock on the door interrupted our conversation. I paid the pizza delivery man and dropped the box on the table. As I walked out into the kitchen, I heard Emmett call out.

"So what are you going to do? About the red haired Limey that is."

I hadn't thought much about it since our conversation this morning. What did I want to do about the situation with Edward? He scared the crap out of me, that much I knew. He knew how to agitate me. He also brought out feelings that were totally foreign. Whether it was hit/shag or out of the wagon/into the hay, the sentiment couldn't have been truer, and it was confusing as hell.

My hand instinctively went to the spot just below my jaw where he had kissed me last night.

He had kissed me. Forget kissing me, he had licked me.

I had pushed it out of mind last night. Now I wanted to lose myself in it. Bask in it. Recall every feeling, every sensation.

He said that he wanted to talk. That he wanted to spend time with me.

I needed to understand this alien pull that he had over me. Was it my need to chase the bad boy? My own idealized Byronic Hero as Emmett had joked earlier? I had compared him to Dracula after all.

It couldn't be that simple. There had to be something more to it. He fascinated me, and it wasn't at just a physical level. I wanted to get inside his brain, crawl around and figure out what made him tick. I wanted to watch him sleep so that I could study his expressions without him knowing.

What the hell is wrong with me? Mooning over a guy I hardly knew?

This is not what I came to London for. I needed to get it together, focus. Get back on track.

I pulled a few paper towels off the roll, and walked back into the kitchen just as the door slammed.

"What in the hell are you doing in my flat?" Rose screeched.

Emmett launched off the couch. "Rose? What the hell are you doing here?"

Rose pivoted to see me standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Bella, what is...this…this…Redneck doing here?"

The pieces all clicked together. Rose's nemesis. Emmett's perfect woman.

Well, duh, Bella. All the pieces were right there, you just couldn't put them together.

I took a deep breath and dropped the napkins on the kitchen counter. Here you go, Emmett. You are both so going to owe me.

"I'm going for a walk. Rose, you need to sit down and shut up while my friend from business class says a few things to you."

Emmett looked like a deer in the headlights. I gave him a wave as I headed for the door.

"Seize the moment Em. I know you can do it. I'll be back in a bit."

I let myself out of the apartment and flew down the steps.

Lord knows what I would be coming back to.


	11. Chapter 11

_There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part_

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 8 - What's in a Name**

I was at a loss for what to do. It was getting cold outside. I didn't want to go to a pub. I wasn't hungry. I didn't want a drink.

But sitting in front of the building wasn't an option.

So I did the only thing I could, I started walking. I hadn't spent much time exploring London, and figured I might as well get a start on it.

I headed back in the direction of Waterloo station. I hadn't made it a block, when I saw him standing across the street. Like he was waiting for me.

I so wasn't in the mood for this. It was bad enough that I was having dreams about him. Even worse that I found myself fanaticizing about him during the day. I couldn't control my subconscious. But direct interactions, yeah, those I could.

Head down, I continued on. If I didn't stop, maybe he wouldn't see me. Or if he did, my lack of acknowledgement might prevent him from following.

Wishful thinking.

"Isabella!" I heard him call after me.

And I was furious at the surge that I felt hearing him call my name. My body was a total traitor.

I stopped, but didn't look back.

"What do you want, Edward?"

"I was coming to see you. I needed to see you." He was directly behind me now.

"You know what? I am really not in the mood right now. I've had my head messed with my head enough for a lifetime. So if you are looking for another round of fuck with the Yank, can you let it be?"

I was shorter with him than I had intended. Instinct was to apologize. I was never intentionally cruel to anyone.

"Isabella, please. Just listen to me…"

I spun around, planning on reiterating my request to be left alone. I should have learned after Saturday night that visual contact was not a good thing.

Hands shoved in the pockets of jeans. Dark grey wool pea coat. The same flush in his cheeks from the cold. There were no words to describe the way he looked. How could I resist him?

"I am not here to be difficult. I was merely coming by to offer to take you to a few places for your research. Alice and I grew up with the story. It's kind of hard not to, living where we did. I just…I wanted to try help."

"Why?" It just tumbled out. I hadn't intended to be rude. "I'm sorry…it's just…why would you want to help me?"

His hand went to his hair, sweeping it away from his eyes. He looked uncomfortable. I wasn't accustomed to seeing anything but confidence from him.

"Do you want my help, or don't you?"

"Why did you come by here? Why didn't you call?" I was trying to buy time, trying to figure out what his motive was. What I wanted.

"I don't have your mobile number, Isabella. I was going to buzz your flat. If you weren't home I was going to leave a note."

"Why not call Jasper? He knows how to reach me."

"And why would I do that? He'd only pry, and I really don't want to disclose the nature of our relationship, Isabella."

Relationship? We had a relationship?

So I did what I always do in situations where I get nervous. I brought my palm to my forehead, and rubbed hard, as If trying to physically force out a thought. It was a habit I had developed as a child.

I felt his hand on my wrist. "Don't do that."

"Why?" I allowed him to pull my hand down. He didn't let go of my wrist.

"Because maybe I want to see your face," He replied softly.

God, this was all so confusing.

"Look, Edward. I can't do this. Every conversation we've had has been combative, frustrating, and totally confusing. You may get off on turning me around in circles, but I don't. Please, can't you just let me be?"

I made a move to walk away, but he still had a hold of my wrist. He used my forward momentum to reel me back. It whipped me around, and I crashed into him.

"Why do you insist on torturing me? I had a wonderful guy kiss me today, and I should have enjoyed it. But instead, all I could think about was you. I can't get you out of my head." I regretted it as soon as I said it. I didn't want him to know the power he had over me.

"Good, because I don't want you too." His expression was fierce, intense. It immediately softened when he registered the shock in mine.

"Isabella, just listen to me." He let go of my wrist. I immediately missed the contact. This isn't me. I don't react to strange men. Why does he affect me like this?

"Just spend a day with me? I can take you to the London Zoo. It isn't exactly the way Stoker wrote about it, but you can get a feel for. And we can talk. We can get to know each other."

"We can talk, or you can insult?" A flicker of pain registered on his face at my cheap shot.

"I'm sorry, it's just…I don't understand. You act different every time I see you. Your moods are giving me whiplash. And then there was that stunt you pulled in front of the club last night. How else would you expect me to react?"

Edward's eyes narrowed for a moment. Then he reached up to weave his hand through my hair.

"Spend a day with me. I'll answer whatever questions you want to ask. Just come." I felt his hand tighten in my hair. "Please, Isabella. Say that you will."

His fingers were slowly opening and closing now, gently massaging my scalp. It was such an odd sensation, something so intimate, and yet so strange.

"Only if you call me by my name."

The massaging didn't stop. I wanted to lean my head back into it, but I checked myself. I needed to maintain my control around him, or at least what little I had left.

"I do."

"No you don't. You call me Isabella. My name is Bella." His hand moved lower, rubbing gently at my neck. I closed my eyes, pure instinct.

"No," He stated quietly. "Your name is Isabella. Your nickname is Bella. And I will not call you Bella."

My eyes shot open.

"Why not?"

He smiled and slid his hand down my neck so that his thumb rested directly over my pulse point again. Just the memory of him kissing me in that exact same spot made me shiver a bit. I could tell by the self-satisfied little smirk that he noticed it too.

"Because you don't believe it. I refuse to call you something that you don't see. Therefore, until you acknowledge and accept the meaning, I will call you Isabella."

I wanted to be angry, to pull away, and to tell him that he didn't know what he was talking about. But I couldn't.

Because he was right. He hardly knew me, yet he could see everything. It scared the living day lights out of me.

And yet there I stood, like a cornered animal. His thumb continued to trace below my jaw.

"There is so much potential in you. So much fire. So much life. Why can't you let it out?"

I didn't know how to respond. My brain scrambled to react to his assessment, while my body reacted to his touch. My own personal civil war.

"What do you want, Isabella? Do you even know?"

I answered before I could think through a response. "I'm not sure."

I knew as soon as I said it that it was only a partial truth.

"Will you kiss me, please? I want you to kiss me."

I hated the way it sounded, like I was begging. But I needed to know if this was real, if there was something lurking underneath. I had kissed Emmett today, and said it didn't compare. But I didn't have anything to compare it to.

"Is that what you want?"

I nodded, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. I didn't trust myself to speak. He smiled at my reaction; it was like he reveled in my discomfort.

He leaned in towards me, his hand shifting so that his thumb was directly underneath my chin.

I could feel his breath on my face, and I instinctively closed my eyes. As soon as I did, I felt pressure from his thumb, shifting my head, so that he could place a gentle kiss on my jaw, next my ear. The next one was directly over my pulse point, followed by a quick trace of his tongue. And lower now, trailing down my neck until he reached the collar of my coat.

I didn't push him away this time. I had asked for this, I wanted this. My arms slipped around his waist, and I pulled myself in closer. He continued kissing my neck, his hand slipping back into my hair and tugging slightly to gain better access. He ran his tongue back along my pulse point again, and I whimpered in reaction. I felt him smile against my skin.

"It scares you to feel out of control, doesn't it Isabella?" He sucked lightly on my neck, and I relaxed into him, feeling his arms tighten around me. "I think it would be a very good thing for you to learn to deal with. Life can't always be controlled now, can it?"

I was scared, I was frustrated, and I desperately didn't want him to stop what he was doing. Edward brought his free hand to the small of my back and pressed against me. I hadn't stopped to think that this was affecting him as much as it was me.

"I think I would very much like to see that moment."

He placed one last gentle kiss on my neck and pulled away.

"I'll pick you up next Saturday at 9."

He released me and turned to walk away.

What the hell? What is this, turn me on and leave me cold?

"I asked you to kiss me!" I shouted after him. Immediately embarrassed at how I sounded.

"I did kiss you, Isabella."

"No you didn't!"

"You asked me to kiss you. I kissed you." I couldn't see his face. No way to decipher the tone of his words.

"I meant on the lips." I could feel the burn building in my face.

He stood, with his back to me, hands back in his pockets.

"I am not going to kiss you on the lips today, Isabella. Accept it."

"Why?" I had no pride now. This is what he did to me. I needed to know, needed to understand.

He didn't answer me immediately, and when he did, I almost thought I had misunderstood.

"I don't think either of us are ready for that moment yet."

He crossed the street to where his car was parked. I hadn't registered that it was there when I had walked by.

"I will get your number from Jasper this week. Expect a call."

He got in and pulled out into traffic without looking at me again. I watched the tail lights whip around the corner and disappear.

I was halfway home when I realized that my hand was at my neck.

Excellent, I was stumbling down the street holding my neck like I had been bitten. Damn him.

I was tired, I was cold, and I was frustrated. I was past caring if Emmett and Rose were still duking it out. I was going to go home and go to bed.

The flat was quiet when I let myself in. The lights were on, and Rose's door was closed. I was thankful. I didn't feel like listening to her rant about Emmett. I loved her, but he was a good guy, and I don't know if I could have handled her putting him down.

Right now, all I wanted was bed and sleep.

For once, I didn't settle in with Dracula before turning out the lights. One man in my head was more than enough tonight.

I lay in the dark, thinking back over the last few months, trying to figure out how I had gotten to this point.

The feeling of terror on hearing Mike's apartment door shut behind me when I walked out. How could I have stayed with him all that time? He had defined who I was for so long, that I just felt like I was reforming who I was.

That, at root, was a major quandary. I had no clue who I was. If someone were to ask the uber clichéd question of 'What do you want to be when you grow up' how would I answer?

Had my decision to come to London been to face that head on, or to run away? Was it even that simple?

And now here I was, elbows deep in research with no real direction on my dissertation.

I kissed two guys today. I turned away the one I should have chased, and pretty much want to screw the brains out of the one I should turn away. Me, Bella Swan. I could count my relationships on one hand, and my sexual partners on one finger.

Why did life have to be so damn confusing?

I stretched my arms over my head, trying to ease some of the tension out of my back and neck. Be logical, Bella. Think it through. Identify the questions and find the answers.

Okay, first question. What do I want to be? Why am I even questioning this? I'd set a path my entire life, get my doctorate and teach. Maybe someday even write. The only way I can get there is if I finish my dissertation. But lately, I've been questioning if that is the path that I want to follow. Will academia be fulfilling enough? Will I be looking myself away from life? Better save that one for another day.

Second question. Why am I having such a hard time with my dissertation? I should be able to crank this out. As much as I didn't want to admit it, Edward had hit it on the head. I had no clue how to write about something I had never lived. It was too late to switch topics, and I had too much invested in this, intellectually and emotionally.

Which lead me to my final question. Edward. Boil it down, Bella. Be logical. What is it about him that is so…so…provocative? He was absolutely gorgeous. He was smart. But it was more than that. No man has ever pushed me like he does. I don't fight, I don't argue. But I do with him.

He makes me feel out of control.

He makes me angry.

He's worked his way so far under my skin that I have sexual dreams about him. I fantasize about him. I have never done that before, ever. Not with a man a know, heck not even with anyone famous. My representative sample for sex, passion, lust, whatever you want to call it was Mike. King of the wham bam thank you ma'am.

But could that be the answer? Is it really that simple? And more importantly, could I even do it?

Did I want to? That was the only question I could answer, and it infuriated me all the more.

Absolutely.

I pulled my pillow over my face and screamed in frustration. I was wound up mentally, physically, and emotionally. I might as well give up.

There wouldn't be any sleep tonight.


	12. Chapter 12

**Gchat/Gmail Transcript**

EMC: YT?

Rose: What

EMC: We need to talk Rose: Nothing to say EMC: Bullshit Rose Rose: Nothing to say

EMC: You call what happened yesterday nothing? Low blow Rose: Fine. You fucked me. Happy?

EMC: No. And I think it was less one sided. You fucked me too. Rose: Not having this conversation with you

EMC: Have dinner with me tonight. Need to talk. Rose: No

EMC: Scared?

Rose: No

EMC: Then why not? Rose: Have plans already

EMC: I'm sure Bella will be fine with you rescheduling Rose: Plans aren't with Bella

EMC: Who then?

Rose: None of your business

EMC: Don't be like this

Rose: Be like what?

EMC: A bitch

Rose: Nice way to win a girl over

EMC: You know what I mean

Rose: Do I?

EMC: Come on Rose. Let's just talk

Rose: Nothing to say. Leave me alone.

_Rose status: I don't want to talk to you._

**#**

_To: Rosalie Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Fine_

You won't answer my calls. You won't open your office door. You leave me no choice.

Yesterday wasn't what you thought it was. I don't do random angry hookups. If you can pull your head out of your pretty little ass for two minutes, you might realize that I am interested in you for something more than your body. Although you make me wish I wasn't with the way you are acting.

I should be insulted that you think so little of me. But I see how you react to the men around here, and I can understand why in your eyes I am not any different. But I am, and I will prove you wrong. I am not going to hurt you.

You can't deny the chemistry. We both saw it first hand. Stop hiding from it and accept that there is something between us.

Open your door, please.

**#**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: Re: Fine_

It was a mistake. Let it be. I am involved with someone else, and don't need this headache. Forget it happened, and I will too. I will be cordial to you around Bella should I see you, and I would expect that you can keep your mouth closed. She doesn't need any drama.

**#**

_To: Rosalie Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Fine_

It wasn't a mistake. It proved a point. And if you were involved with someone else, why did you let it happen in the first place? We both wanted it. And it was pretty damn earth shattering. Admit it.

I won't say anything to Bella, and I refuse to let you be.

**#**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: Re: Fine_

Just because it was good doesn't mean it should or will happen again. And I won't let it. Now leave it alone Emmett.

**#**

_To: Rosalie Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Fine_

Not going to, but you delude yourself into believing it. I think it could be quite fun to prove you wrong.

By the way, if you want me to drop it, then stop responding to me. And you can take that however you want.


	13. Chapter 13

_Lucy is a pure and virtuous girl. But, I admit that her free way of speaking shocks me sometimes. Jonathan says it is a defect of the aristocracy that they say what they please. The truth is that I admire Lucy, and I'm not surprised that men flock around her. I wish I were as pretty and as adored as she._

_Bram Stoker's Dracula by Francis Ford Coppola, 1992_

**Chapter 9 Free Speaking**

It felt like Rose avoided me all day Monday. I had plenty of things to keep me busy as I eased into a schedule at the Library. I was well into my second week in London, and it felt like I had already worn a path between our flat and the campus.

Tuesday night we had planned a girl's night. She was bringing home take out, and I had picked up a movie. We were going to hang out and be silly, just like old times.

I spent a good part of the day trying to reconcile my research with the crazy thoughts running around in my head. At the core of Victorian beliefs were the notions that a woman was either pure or a wife and mother. If a woman was neither, she was a whore, and of no consequence in society. That was the contrast that Stoker had set up for the two primary female characters in Dracula.

It was very hard to get thoughts of a man out of your head when all you read all week long were direct or indirect references to sex sex sex. The angel/whore dichotomy as Emmett had called it. Well, Edward had accused me of not having the experience to understand the story. I definitely got the angel part. Maybe that lack of experience was worth something after all.

Tuesday night, I was already in my flannel pj pants and a t shirt when Rose got home.

"I have pizza!" Rose crowed from the open door.

"I have good hooch!" I echoed. We giggled. The old guy who lived down the hall from us in Chicago called any type of alcohol hooch, and it stuck.

Ten minutes later, Rose was dressed in her own flannels and t shirt, and we were feasting on passable pizza. A few more glasses of red wine, and I wouldn't notice that it didn't compare to a good pizza found only in Chicago.

"How did things go this week? Did you get any traction?" Rose inquired. As much as she teased me about my subject matter, she was always incredibly supportive.

"Okay. I found some great material, but I've got some things on my mind, and the subject matter isn't helping."

"Hmmm," Rose encouraged as she took a bite of pizza. As soon as her mouth was empty, she picked up on her thought. "Would the something on your mind be of the male variety?"

I colored at her comment. I couldn't help it.

"Yes. I…I don't know Rose. I'm so confused." I took a drink of wine, trying to figure out where to begin.

"Well tell me, who is it? The hot doc with the Aston Martin?"

"How did you guess?"

"You've never let a guy get close enough to rattle you before, Bella. It's like underage drinking. Once you do it and don't get caught, you are going to want to do it again, just because you can."

"It's not like that, Rose." I paused, trying to think of a way to articulate it so things made sense. "He pushes my buttons, messes with my head. He's nice one minute, a total arrogant ass the next, and he reduces me to a blithering idiot."

"You just need to get laid and get it out of your system. When is the last time you got some?"

"Umm, I've been single since November, remember? What about you?" I shot back.

Rose's face was the one to turn red this time. Rose didn't blush. Ever.

"Rose…what are you not telling me?"

"Nothing." She tried to wave me off as she fled to the kitchen to retrieve paper towels.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale, don't tell me nothing. You had sex this week, didn't you?"

I knew that she had gone out with Royce a few times. He had come by the apartment to pick her up. Apparently his father was some lower level nobility, and he thought he was all that and a bag of chips. Rose saw him as a challenge, and enjoyed having her ego stoked.

"If you tell me that you slept with Royce, I might have to be sick."

She fidgeted with the paper towel. Not meeting my eyes.

"Your silence is not convincing. The only guys I have seen you with are Royce and…."

I trailed off. Oh please tell me she didn't.

"Rose, did you have sex with Emmett?"

She didn't look up. After a moment, she bobbed her head.

"But when? You were already asleep when I came back on Sunday, and I wasn't gone long enough..."

She shook her head, "I wasn't asleep. We were in the kitchen when you came home, you just didn't see us. He left after you went to your room."

I sat back. Stunned didn't even begin to describe my feelings.

"But I thought you hated him! You were always calling him the Redneck and complaining about what a jerk you thought he was."

Rose dropped her face in her hands.

"I screwed up, Bella. I screwed up big time. I was yelling at him when you left. It didn't dawn on me that he was your hottie from business class until I saw you together. I went off on him about messing with my friend to hurt with me, and he got mad and said he wished that I would get out of his head so he could mess around with you."

She drew in a long breath. "I got so mad I took a swing at him. He caught my wrist, so I swung with the other one, which he caught too. One thing led to another and well…"

Shocked, I didn't speak, waiting for her to continue.

"It's all so damn infuriating, Bells. The minute he kissed me it was game on, and I had no doubt where it was going. Hell, I couldn't get us there fast enough." She paused and laughed sarcastically. "I guess it's a good thing I had a few condoms stashed in the takeout drawer in the kitchen."

I didn't ask. This was one of those situations where I definitely didn't want to know.

"Want to know the worst part of it all? Oh my god was it good. He was good. If he didn't drive me so absolutely bat shit with his superior attitude and manufactured down home sweetness, I would be begging for more. Why? Why the hell do I respond to him like this? I want Royce to do this to me, not…him."

She couldn't even speak Emmett's name.

Poor Emmett. He managed to push the one button on Rose guaranteed to freak her out. She didn't like to feel out of control. Compound that by what sounded like one hell of a roll in the hay, and Emmett didn't stand a chance at convincing her it was about anything more than sex. Somehow, while I don't think he would turn it away, I doubted that sex was the only thing that Emmett wanted from Rose.

I didn't know who I felt worse for. My loyalties were strangely torn. I wanted to protect both of them. And I wanted to smack Rose up side the head and make her realize how great Emmett is. But I knew that wouldn't accomplish much of anything.

"So what are you going to do, Rose? Emmett is a good guy. He doesn't deserve the way you treat him."

"How do I know he's a good guy?" She sighed, "I just don't trust him. What if he's not different from any other man who has played a good game just to get me in bed?"

"What if he is? Do you want to miss out on that?"

She didn't answer me. "Did he really try something with you?"

Knowing that how I answered could have major impact on how Rose viewed Emmett, I structured my answer carefully.

"He kissed me on Sunday, and it was nice, but it wasn't fireworks. In a way, I think we both wish it had been. Instead, it proved what we both already knew our hearts were already somewhere else."

"Hearts? Try hormones."

I paused for a moment, as the realization hit me.

"Oh my god is there an irony in that he was hoping I could get YOU out of his head."

Rose looked shocked at my statement. I snorted, and broke down in giggles. She did too. Like I could ever hold a candle to her.

"So what is the deal with the good doctor? You are seriously messed up over him, huh?"

My hand instinctively went to my neck. "Rose, I can't even begin to explain it. One minute I want to smack him, and the next minute…" My face turned red again. I couldn't say it.

"And the next minute?" She prodded. "Bella! I'm proud of you!"

"Rose! You aren't helping!"

"Yes I am! You go girl! Go live! Or more appropriately, go do!"

I shook my head and rubbed my forehead. This wasn't helping. While the advice of 'go do' was infinitely appealing, it hadn't made things any clearer for Rose. Would it be any different for me?

"Come on, Bella, loosen up."

"Can we just cease the course of conversation?" I stood and closed the lid of the pizza box.

"So are you and Emmett…" I didn't know what to call it.

"Bella, I am having fun. To phrase it in a way that you will get, I have my Texan and my Lord. Maybe I need to borrow your doctor."

"You keep your hands off my doctor," I shot back. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted it.

"Mmmhmm. I see how it goes. You can deny it all you want Bella, but you've got it bad for him."

"You just go be happy with your Texan. I vote you kick Royce to the curb."

She smiled and twisted a strand of hair around her finger. "I don't know, I like him. He's fun. It's a nice change."

"Yeah, well, you better be careful. Don't forget what happened to Lucy after she got her lord."

Rose looked at me in confusion.

I shook my head in disbelief. How many times had we watched the movie together? No it, wasn't a direct representation of the book, but she should remember this part.

"He cut off her head and drove a stake through her heart. Don't let him do that to you."

Rose shook her had and smiled. "Oh I have Royce totally under control. He'd never do a thing to hurt me."

"Neither would Emmett. Dare I say it, he may be more Quincey than I realized. I bet he'd do anything for you."

"You need to stop living in the book, Bella. Not all men are one of the characters out of Dracula."

She paused for a moment to consider her statement.

"But let's just say, for the sake of discussion, they are. What does that make you precious doctor?"

I knew the answer, but I didn't want to tell Rose.

"Well?" She knew me too well. "Did you find your dark prince, Bella? He sounds way too interesting to be Jonathan Harker. Oh wait, you already had one of those. His name was Mike."

"Good night, Rose." I stood and walked toward my bedroom.

"I'll take your lack of an answer as a confirmation. Given in, Bella. Go with it, enjoy it!" She called after me. "Let him take a big old bite."

I slammed my door and crawled into bed. I didn't want to think about him. I didn't want to think about anything.

A book didn't provide any respite. I was about to give up and turn off the light when my cell phone rang.

I picked it up. It wasn't a number I recognized, but it clearly wasn't from the states. Safe bet it wasn't Mike.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Isabella."

He didn't need to identify himself. Even if he hadn't called me by my full name, I'd have known that voice.

"Hello, Edward."

There was a pregnant pause. I waited for him to continue the conversation. He was the one who had called me.

"Were you busy?"

"No, I was just reading."

"What are you reading?"

I picked the book up and studied the cover. "_Rebecca_."

"Ah. Daphne Du Maurier. Rather a morbid tale."

I laughed. "I have to admit, even though I am a lit major, I didn't read the book until after I saw the movie. I think I like the movie version better."

Edward chuckled. "Olivier did play DeWinter well. Tell me, what appealed to you, the casting, or the modification to the story?"

He seemed so relaxed on the phone. Not at all combative. It almost felt like a normal conversation.

"Honestly, I'm a romantic at heart. The movie gave me that, the book didn't."

"Always looking for the good in people, are you Isabella?"

"Something like that."

Another long pause.

"So are we still on for Saturday?"

"I take it you badgered Jasper for my number. How did you explain it?"

I could hear rustling on the other end of the phone. "I told him that I was going to help you do some research."

"Well, I guess if you told him that, I couldn't very well make you a liar, could I?"

I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied. "Thank you, Isabella. It's not often that someone worries about my integrity."

That made me laugh. "I don't know enough about you to question your integrity Edward."

"Then I'll make you a deal. You spend all day with me on Saturday, including dinner, and I will answer any question you throw at me."

"Any question?"

He chuckled. "Any question."

"You may end up regretting it, you know. I grew up playing twenty questions."

It took him a beat to answer. "I get to spend the day with you. How could I ever regret it?"


	14. Chapter 14

_I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us. A personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 10 - Animal Instinct**

I was a nervous wreck on Saturday morning. Four outfit changes. Hair up, hair down. Which coat should I wear?

This is pathetic. I was simply going to the zoo.

With Edward.

There was no simple about it.

The call on Tuesday had broken the proverbial ice. We spoke a few times a day, with the nights being our longest conversations. I would lie in bed and tell Edward stories about my family, growing up between Phoenix and Washington, and how I had ended up in Chicago. We spoke about books endlessly. I was amazed to find he loved literature as much as I did, although our tastes did tend to diverge a bit. It became a game of this or that. I'd say Shakespeare, he'd say Chaucer. I'd say Jane Austen, he'd say Charles Dickens.

I finally started to learn more about him, beyond the mystique. What he found interesting, what made him laugh, how he liked his coffee.

I wasn't any closer to knowing him though. At least not in any depth. All the revealing, or probing questions he dodged or redirected. I could tell you his favorite color (blue), that he liked to play rugby, and that he preferred dark chocolate, but I couldn't tell you anything of consequence. I knew better than to try and divine any secret depth in his affection for The Police.

I intended to remedy that today. I'd spent the last two days formulating questions. Dr. Edward Masen wasn't going to know what hit him.

At precisely 9, I was out in front, waiting. At 9:02, the black Aston Martin pulled up to the curb, and Edward jumped out of the car to open my door.

"Hello, Isabella." That little self-satisfied smirk was resident. It would be infuriating if it didn't make him so damn attractive.

"Hello Edward." My heart sped up at that smile. If it were physically possible to melt, I would have.

"Do you mind if I kiss you hello?"

Oh good lord. Is he really going to?

I couldn't find any words, so I nodded my agreement. His smirk grew into a full fledged smile. It caused his eyes to crinkle a bit around the corners. I'd never seen him really smile, just that annoying smirk. He looked happy. Almost carefree. So different from the arrogant, infuriating man that had tormented me for the last few weeks.

Edward leaned in to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. Another one, slightly longer, on my left cheek. He then pulled back, staring directly into my eyes for a moment before moving to the other side of my face. He traced his nose along my cheek bone before placing one last kiss next to my ear.

"I don't ever want to go that long without seeing you again," He whispered. His breath against my ear was warm, and I wanted to lean into him. I needed more.

My hands instinctively came to rest at the front of his open coat. Instead of pushing him away like I had in the past, I grasped at the zipper edges, pulling him in closer. He had absolute and utter power over me. I would do anything he asked.

He laughed at my ragged breathing. I didn't want him to laugh. I wanted him to continue.

"You still aren't going to properly kiss me, are you?" I asked.

Edward pulled back far enough so that he could look me directly in the eyes. The smile was still there, although not quite as broad as before.

"No, I'm not."

"Will you ever?"

He raised an eyebrow, as if mocking me.

"What if I kiss you?" I asked, amazed at my own courage.

"You won't." He sounded so arrogant, so self assured. It was exasperating. But he was also right. I wouldn't. I desperately wanted to, but I wouldn't.

"How do you know?"

He smiled and leaned in close enough to run his nose along my jaw. "I know you Isabella. I know how your brain works. I know what makes you mad, I know what makes you smile, and I know how to bring out that beautiful blush."

Maybe it was the tone of his voice. Maybe it was a challenge. I don't know what prompted me, but I turned my head and caught the edge of his ear with my lips. A clumsy kiss, but the fact that he didn't pull away emboldened me to do it again.

"Never bet against me. And I want to know what it feels like to have you kiss me on the lips."

"Why are you so insistent?" He asked quietly.

"Why are you so resistant?" I shot back.

Edward pulled away, his expression guarded.

I had managed to wipe the smile off his face. I immediately missed it.

He stepped back and pulled the car door open for me. I sat down as gracefully as possible, a challenge given how low the car was to the ground. I noticed his eyes on my legs, and a flush crept over my cheeks. He chuckled and closed the car door with a slam. Infuriating as he was, he might not be in as much control as he wanted me to believe.

Edward jogged around to the other side of the car, climbed in, and pressed the ignition button. He didn't acknowledge me, choosing instead to focus on navigating the car through London.

After five or so minutes of silence, he reinitiated conversation.

"You are quiet, Isabella. What's on your mind?"

I answered without thinking. "Would it be too snarky to say you?"

He laughed. "I like that you are honest. No games."

Honesty. It reminded me of something he had said the other evening on the phone.

"No games. You promised me that I could ask any question and you would answer."

Edward's eyes narrowed a bit, but never left the road. "That I did."

"Good. So let's start with the easy ones."

I spent the duration of the drive warming him up. Asking questions about his family, about Alice, And to my surprise, he truly seemed to open up. He laughed and smiled as he answered my questions, especially when his sister was involved. I liked seeing this side of him.

"It sounds like you played a lot of make believe growing up," I observed. It was hard to imagine him as a carefree child, laughing and playing.

"We did. We lived close to the old Abbey, and we would sneak up there to play King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. It was the perfect place to do it."

"I can totally see Alice as Guinevere," I laughed.

"Actually, Maggie was Guinevere. Alice always wanted to be Morgan Le Fay. She liked to think she had magic powers."

"Who's Maggie?" I asked.

Edward didn't answer.

"Edward? Who is Maggie?"

"A childhood friend." His tone indicated that he would not elaborate, so I redirected to another line of questioning.

"I can't imagine what it was like growing up in Whitby. To be in the middle of all that literary history."

The smile returned. "Honestly, we all got so fed up with the story. When it's front and center all the time, it loses its allure ."

We slipped back into comfortable conversation as I started lobbing questions at Edward about his time at 'University.' Yet another dialect nuance between American and British English.

It was a dreary day, with the constant threat for rain, which meant that we had most of the zoo to ourselves. We paid for admission and headed immediately for the wolves. In the book, Lucy's mother had been killed by a wolf that had 'escaped' from the London Zoological Garden.

"Special powers or no, I can't imagine breaking a wolf out of the London Zoo," Edward quipped. "One would think the good Count would have powers to lure one that wasn't in captivity."

"Where is your spirit of adventure, your imagination? It was a way to scare the residents of London, to make it seem more real. What was the line? Maybe the _wolf_ _'escaped simply because he wanted to get out.'_" I watched a grey wolf stalk away fromus, as if bored by our presence. "I am half surprised they haven't named one of the wolves Bersicker, after the escaped wolf in the book."

Edward leaned in close enough to whisper in my ear. "Trust me, my imagination is fabulous. And if I recall, he also used Bersicker to gain access to Lucy's home, not just kill her mother. To turn it back to you '_But, there, you can't trust wolves no more_ _nor women.'_"

He chuckled as I involuntarily shivered. "Cold, Isabella?"

I couldn't be irritated with him when he gave me that smile. And he could quote Dracula; it's probably a good thing that Rose wasn't around to hear, she'd never let me live it down.

We spent the rest of the morning wandering. Edward had taken to peppering me with questions as well, mostly about my dissertation and my analysis of the characters. His knowledge of the story and the character nuances was deep enough to make me wish I had a paper and pen periodically. Little comments like the one earlier about Bersicker would trigger a thought that could be helpful later on. Maybe this little outing would be good for my paper after all.

It was close to noon, and we were in the reptile house when I re-engaged my line of questioning.

"Why did you decide on hematology?"

We had paused in front of case holding a viper of some kind. He didn't answer right away, and I thought for a moment that he hadn't heard me. I noticed that he looked around quickly, before turning to back me up against the wall. My hands braced against the glass behind me, and I pulled in a sharp breath as I felt his lips graze my ear.

"What are you doing?" I asked nervously. Having him this close was enough to send my heart into overdrive again. Every touch me made me feel out of control. Part of me wanted to run and hide, the other part wanted to beg for more.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to be around you?"

His admission sent a small surge of power through me though. No one had ever said that to me before, made me feel wanted like Edward did. Maybe he was just as affected as I was.

"It's not very easy to be around you either," I admitted. I may be setting myself up for failure, but I couldn't lie.

I felt his hand slip inside my coat and slide lightly up my side, grazing my breast. I sucked in a breath in response. Edward moved his head, using his nose to push my hair away from my ear.

"I wanted to demystify you, bring you out of your shell, so that I could find out what was underneath and walk away. But the more I see, the more I want."

His hand had started its circuit back down my body. He was bolder this time, palming my breast and squeezing.

"I want you, Isabella. I have never wanted any woman like I want you."

I dropped my head back against the glass, forgetting that we were in a public place. I was wedged between a man who knew how to push every button I had and a poisonous snake. And all I could think of was _more_. I focused on his hand, wishing that I had stuck with a shirt instead of a sweater. He could have just popped a few buttons open and had his hand directly on me.

"What do you want, Isabella?" His breathing sounded a bit labored now. He felt it too.

"Look at me," I whispered.

He paused for a second, before pulling back so that I could see his face.

I leaned forward quickly, taking advantage of the proximity to place a gentle kiss on his lips. I don't know who was more shocked by the contact, Edward or me.

I expected him to pull back, to chastise me, to blow up. Instead, he returned my kiss hesitantly. I don't know what shocked me more, him for returning the kiss, or me for initiating it in the first place.

That one chink in his armor was enough to give me the courage that I needed. I kissed him again, harder, waiting for him to respond. Then again, opening my mouth slightly, waiting to see what he would do. And again, this time grazing my tongue against his.

And that was all either of us needed. All hesitancy fell away. Edward pushed me back against the glass, groping furiously as we lost ourselves in a kiss that had been weeks in the making. Every thought, every moment spent day dreaming in the library didn't begin to come near this.

We jumped apart at the sound of laughing children. A few moments later, a cluster of little boys came whipping around the corner, jabbering on about seeing the vampire bats.

Instinctively, I raised the back of my hand to my mouth, wiping the remnant of the kiss from my chin. Edward's eyes narrowed as he watched. I felt totally exposed.

His hand was out in a flash. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me after him out of the reptile house and through the zoo grounds.

"Edward?" I called after him, confused. Was he angry? He had initiated this. Granted, I had kissed him, but he responded. He couldn't be mad.

He stopped and spun around, pulling me up against him. His hand was in my hair, and he was kissing me as hard as he had in the reptile house. His tongue was in my mouth, and his hand was knotted in my hair as I held onto him tightly. He broke away from my mouth and kissed along my jaw to my ear.

"Tell me what you want," he rasped.

When I didn't say anything, he growled. "Tell me, Isabella. Tell me what you _want_."

It was the emphasis on want that made up my mind. We had come to the zoo under the guise of my dissertation. A momentary flash of the article I had tripped on earlier in the week ran through my mind. Angel/Whore. You couldn't be both.

"Take me home. My flat, your home, just take me somewhere that we can be alone."

I was shocked the moment it cleared my lips. It wasn't that I regretted it. On the contrary, it was all I could I think of. I wanted Edward, desperately. He'd been in my head for weeks, and now here we were, in the first place he ever pushed me, lured me in, made me want more. He had been front and center in my fantasies for weeks. And now here we were.

"Are you sure?" He asked quietly.

"Yes." The confidence in my answer masked the nerves that were tearing apart my insides.

He shifted back to my mouth so that he could kiss me once more, and then broke away. He stepped back, and held out his hand. I searched his face, hoping to find motivation, intent. His expression was unreadable. I'd find no answers there.

It was my choice. I knew what he wanted. I knew what I wanted. But it was my decision to make.

I pulled in a slow breath, and reached out to grasp his hand. He could lead me to hell and back. As long as he was leading, I would follow.

We were walking fast, almost a run, through the zoo grounds. It had started to rain while we were in the reptile house, completely clearing out the zoo. By the time we reached the parking lot, it was all but deserted.

We were soaking wet and laughing. I hadn't heard him really laugh before, and it was a beautiful sound. I wished that I could freeze this moment in my mind. His smile, his laugh. The way he made me feel.

Edward pulled out his keys, deactivating the car alarm and went straight to his car door without letting go of my hand. He yanked the door open, sat down in the car, and tugged me in after him. I followed without hesitation, climbing in to straddle him in the front seat.

The door pulled shut with a quiet thud, sealing out the world.

"I will take you home, but I am not patient enough to wait that long." Edward's voice was low and confident. "Do you trust me, Isabella?"

Even if I didn't, I wouldn't have told him that.

"Take your coat off please."

I immediately obeyed. The moment my shoulders were back, Edward's hand was tugging at the bottom of my sweater so that he could slip his hand up underneath. He traced slow circles methodically up my stomach as I struggled to shake off my jacket and toss it in the passenger seat.

"Put your hands on the back of the seat, please," he requested, voice quiet but commanding.

I complied, my hands gripping the soft leather. Both of his hands were up inside my sweater now, tracing and roaming. He slipped his hands inside my bra, gently squeezing and teasing.

"Do you want me to take you home still? Or should I stop?"

I arched into his hands. "I don't care where you take me, just get us there fast."

He squeezed again, and I dropped my head back, losing myself in the sensations. He dropped his head to my neck, and I felt his tongue tracing the hollow of my throat. If he didn't stop, we weren't going to make it out of this car.

"Since you phrase it like that…" His hand dropped, popping open the button on my jeans and tugging the zipper down. It had started to rain hard, the water drumming a gentle staccato on the roof. It was impossible to see more than ten feet in front of us.

"Do you trust me? You didn't answer before." His expression was serious, but his eyes were alight with a fire I'd never seen before. It reminded me of the smile and the laughter from earlier. He was happy, he was alive.

I nodded my assent, and waited for him to continue.

"May I touch you?"

I immediately nodded, not trusting myself to speak. His fingers on my stomach almost made me jump.

"Shhhh. Relax. Trust me."

I closed my eyes and grasped leather of the driver's seat.

"Open your eyes, Isabella. Don't hide."

Edward tugged at my jeans, and I moved to help accommodate the awkward angle. His fingers continued to travel lower, tracing and teasing. If I had been a bit more courageous, I would have forced his hand myself; he couldn't move fast enough.

The first time he touched me, I could feel a rush of heat through my entire body. My face felt like it was on fire. I lifted my hips in reaction. Edward held my gaze, that self-satisfied smirk settling back in over his beautiful face. I had never felt so completely

out of control and yet utterly aroused. All I could think was _more_. I'd beg if he told me to.

But I didn't need to beg. Edward anticipated exactly what I wanted. I gasped as he slipped inside me, too caught up in the moment to register irritation at his chuckle. His hand moved rhythmically, methodically, increasing the tension that had started to form knots in my stomach. But it wasn't enough, and I subconsciously started to rock back and forth in response. I couldn't handle the intensity of his gaze, and closed my eyes, shutting out everything but the feeling of him. I vaguely registered his labored breathing, but it quickly faded away, obscured by the explosion of white behind my eyelids as I gave into the shockwaves. I was lightheaded at the intensity, and arched back, my head resting against the steering wheel to ground myself.

I tried to regain my composure, but all I wanted was for him to continue. What was happening to me? Was that what I had been missing out on? I'd never felt so wanted, so free.

"That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." I heard Edward whisper. His tone was reverent, almost awed. He couldn't mean me?

He slipped his hand around my neck, and pulled me forward so that he could kiss me again. I could get drunk on the taste and feel of him, and gave in willingly as he tugged my hair to gain access to my neck again.

When he moved to zip my jeans I whimpered. I didn't want him to stop. I wanted more. I needed more. He tugged on my hair, forcing me back so that he could look directly into eyes.

"Climb in the passenger seat and buckle your seatbelt," he murmured. "I have no intention of following the traffic laws. I want you in my bed. Now."

I awkwardly scrambled across the console and into the seat. I wasn't going to argue with Edward Masen.


	15. Chapter 15

_Faith: that faculty which enables us to believe things which we know to be untrue._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 11 - In The Dark**

I wasn't sure where Edward lived. It was in London, but I didn't know my way around well enough to recognize the area. He pulled into a parking garage, had the car off, and was around to my side with the door open before I could even get my seatbelt off.

The moment I was out of the car, he had me pinned up against it, kissing and sucking on my neck while his hand slipped back up under my sweater. Just the presence of him was exhilarating, and obliterated my normal sense of propriety. I would have never done anything like this with Mike.

"Flat…" I gasped. If we didn't get there quickly, we'd end up doing something potentially embarrassing in the parking garage.

"You aren't at all," he laughed.

It took me a minute to realize that he was being funny. He had baited me in the past, but I had never heard him crack a joke. I didn't know how to respond. The further we ventured into whatever this was the more uncharted territory we found ourselves in. Was I finally seeing the real Edward?

He grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs, stopping at each landing to back me up against the wall like he had at the car. We were laughing and kissing and pawing at each other like two excited teenagers. At the third floor, Edward let go of my hand and flew out into the hallway, unlocking a door and waiting for me to follow.

The moment I cleared the threshold I heard his keys drop, and I registered my coat being pulled off. I didn't stop to take in the room.

Edward scooped me up; carrying me through rooms to what I assume was his bedroom. Dark drapes were pulled, closing out most of the light. He set me down gently, peeled off my sweater and gently pushed me back on the bed.

His lips were on my stomach, tracing paths with his tongue. I felt him pop the button on my jeans and slowly ease down the zipper. A few quick tugs and my jeans were on the floor.

I lay there on his bed, naked except for my underwear while Edward knelt over me fully clothed. I knew that he was looking at me, taking everything in. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to relax. I felt totally vulnerable, physically and emotionally. And yet as uncomfortable as I was being totally exposed, I felt alive. My emotions were all over the place. Confused, free, excited. I couldn't even begin to articulate if I tried.

"I'm going to ask you one last time, is this what you want, Isabella?" I could barely hear Edward when he spoke.

I nodded my head, and forced myself to sit up on my knees so that I could reach him. I started unbuttoning his shirt, but my hands were shaking too badly. He pushed my hands away and made quick work of the buttons and shed his shirt. My hands and mouth were immediately on his chest, exploring, learning, losing myself. I felt more comfortable close to him. I'm not sure if it was the contact, or the ability to hide myself a bit.

"Lay back, Isabella." Edward pushed gently on my shoulders, and crawled up on the bed. I dropped down, and scooted back up the bed. He followed me, an intent look on his face.

He grabbed my leg up and kissed my ankle, sending a charge of electricity through my body.

"It's never been about you, has it? No one has ever thought about what you wanted or tried to make you feel good. And you are always too selfless or shy to ask."

Edward moved further up the bed, pausing to kiss my stomach, even further up between my breasts, again across my chest to my shoulder, until coming to rest on his side next to me. He leaned in to kiss me slowly, almost reverently, his free hand cupping my face. It was such an intimate, loving gesture that it took my breath away.

He broke away from my mouth, kissing his way back along my neck as his hand slid down to cup my breast again. Quick work was made of the clasp of my bra, and he pushed it out of the way.

He was gentle as he explored my body. One hand glided slowly down my arm to grasp my hand and lift it over my head. He immediately released it and skimmed his fingers back down the inside of my arm, raising gooseflesh in his wake.

I instinctively moved to pull my arm back down, a combination of my nerves at being totally vulnerable and my need to be able to touch him. But as soon as he registered my movement, Edward's hand was back at my wrist, securing it to the bed.

"Why do you keep trying to hide yourself? Didn't I already tell you that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen?"

His body shifted, and I felt his mouth at the base of my neck. His touches became more insistent, gently squeezing and kneading. He kissed me everywhere but where I wanted him to. My collarbone. My shoulder. My rib cage. The inside of my elbow. He was teasing me, building the anticipation. So much so that I gasped when I felt his tongue graze the underside of my breast.

"Don't hold back, Isabella. I want to hear how I make you feel," he whispered against my skin. Before I could process a thought, his mouth was around my nipple, gently stroking and sucking at it. A small sigh escaped my lips, and I felt him smile against me.

"That's it. Trust what you feel. Trust how I make you feel."

He continued to lavish attention on me, kissing and teasing as he whispered against my skin. How good I smelled, how I tasted. How beautiful I was. It made me feel like he was worshipping me.

"Did you like our little session in the car?" He was looking up at me, his head resting on my stomach. He wore that same amused look he always had when he knew he was pushing my buttons.

My face was immediately warm as another charge of electricity ran through me. I bit my lip and nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"You were absolutely breathtaking, Isabella. I want to see you come apart like that again." His hand slipped down to slide off the remainder of my clothing. "I very much like knowing that I can make you feel that good.

I lay spread out on the bed, naked, and completely at his whim. I felt totally out control and yet absolutely safe.

"Tell me what you want, Isabella. I'd like to hear you say it."

He sounded so different from the infuriating man that had taunted and tormented me over the previous weeks.

"Don't be scared. I would never do anything to hurt you." He kissed his way gently up my body, and brought his hand up to rest on my cheek again. I closed my eyes and leaned into his hand.

His tone was gentle, his words affectionate. I believed him. Yet I was still scared, uncomfortable in my own skin.

Edward must have picked up on my insecurity when I didn't answer. His hand slowly trailed along my hip bone, waiting.

"Would you like me to touch you again?" His words were so proper, formal, it made the whole thing that much more erotic. I kept my eyes and nodded, my cheeks burning.

His hand left my hip, sliding down to and dip behind my knee. He bent my leg so that my foot could rest flat on the bed. I felt the trail of his fingers down the inside of my leg. My knee instinctively dropped a bit to the side and I heard a soft chuckle at the reaction. My eyes flew open, and I was ready with a retort, but the slow graze of his hand eliminated my ability to speak.

Just like in the car, I gave in, lost myself in his touch. My body took over, arching and rocking against his hand. My fists knotted into the sheets as I let the sensations wash over me. I was vaguely aware of asking him to move faster, my knee dropping completely to the side. I was writhing under him on the bed, with no fear, no embarrassment. I felt free. I felt wanted.

He whispered in my ear as I came back down. I didn't register what he said, too caught up in the sensation, in his presence. Intermittent words like fire, beautiful, life blended with the exhilaration of the feeling of his fingers inside of me.

I pulled in a deep breath and opened my eyes. Edward was watching me, a lazy smile on his face. It was out of sync with intensity burning in his eyes.

"You know that I want you, don't you, Isabella?" He never looked away, never broke his gaze. He was waiting for me to indicate that I understood and that I believed him.

"I want you too," I whispered back.

His smile grew a bit. "May I make love to you, Isabella?"

I didn't trust myself to speak. I don't think I could have if I tried. I felt myself coloring again as I nodded my agreement. There was no way I could stop now, I wanted this too much. I wanted us too much.

Edward pulled away, and I heard him digging around in the bedside table. The sound of his jeans hitting the floor followed by crinkling and tearing of plastic. He climbed back on the bed, hovering over me, his arms bearing the brunt of his weight.

It was dark enough in the room that I couldn't make out much. His fair skin, his hair hanging in his eyes, which were alight with a fire so similar to earlier in the car. He slowly eased himself down onto me, still supporting his weight on his arms. The warmth of his body, the electricity humming between us was all encompassing, and I needed him to move, to follow through on his request.

I shifted my hips, brushing up against him. A flicker of that wicked smile flew across his features that made him so irresistible. I slipped my hand in his hair and pulled him in closer to me.

"So help me god if you start teasing me again..." I shifted my hips against him again. I couldn't handle the wait any more. I desperately wanted him, and would do whatever it took to make that happen.

I couldn't help but momentary laugh at myself internally. Who was this vixen, and what had she done with shy, timid Bella? I had never said or done anything as remotely forward as I had today.

"I want to hear you say it first." The smirk was still there, but it seemed to be hiding something else.

If I didn't know better, I would have thought he needed the reassurance as much as I did.

It gave me a feeling of balance, of equality. This wasn't a game. There was something more here. It wasn't just about hormones and sex.

"Will you make love to me, please?"

And with that simple request, the smirk grew into a full fledged smile, a look of victory, crossed his face. I couldn't help but smile back. Every wall was down now.

His lips crashed into mine as he slipped into me. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, reveling in the feeling, the connection, the completion. It had been

so long since I had been with anyone. That, combined with the fire and want that Edward had been fueling over the past few weeks made me desperate for more. I clawed at his back, wrapped my legs around his waist, anything to get him closer.

We were both too excited, too eager to worry about anything other than finding a release. There was no slow or gentle. We groped, we pushed, we pulled, and it was almost a flat out battle to feel as much as possible, to experience everything. I totally let go, made demands, cried out his name, begged for more.

And the climax was incredible, unlike anything I had ever experienced. I was coming to the realization that I had been missing out on a lot of things.

Edward collapsed against me, breathing heavily. He pushed a bit of matted hair away from my face and kissed me gently.

"Thank you."

That one simple acknowledgement felt more intimate than anything that preceded it.

"I think I should thank you. I've never, well…that was…" I fumbled, trying to form a coherent thought.

Edward smiled, rolling to his side and pulling me with him.

"It's just the beginning, Isabella. No need to thank me yet." I cuddled into him, enjoying the warmth of his body. "I intend to everything about us a regular occurrence."

For the first time in what seemed like ages, I felt really happy. Someone wanted me for exactly who I was, made me feel amazing. Like I was special.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the quiet of us just being.

The room was totally dark when I woke up. I didn't see a bed side clock. We both must have fallen asleep.

I slipped out of bed and retrieved my clothes. Edward was sprawled out, sound asleep. He looked so different. His face relaxed and peaceful. Such a contrast to the infuriatingly cryptic, dazzling man that I was slowly getting to know.

A knot formed in my chest as I watched him sleep. I was absolutely nuts about him, and I had no clue what he wanted from me. I could be setting myself up for a major let down if I wasn't careful. Yet at the same time, there was a side to him today that was

new. He laughed. He smiled. He cracked jokes. He opened up to me, if just a little bit. He made me feel beautiful and wanted, if only for a short time.

I couldn't imagine him ever intentionally causing me pain.

I slipped out of his bedroom, and roamed through the flat looking for the kitchen. In my attempt to find a light switch, I cracked my knee on something, and heard a corresponding crash. I found a lamp nearby, and flipped it on. I had run into a glass and iron coffee table with a collection of picture frames scattered over the top. One had tumbled off the table and fallen on the floor.

Kneeling down, I retrieved a silver picture frame. The dusty glass had cracked, but the frame appeared to be intact. I checked to make sure that there were no shards on the ground before setting the frame back on the table. I'd mention it to Edward and let him know that I would replace the glass. The frame looked old; maybe I should just offer to replace it entirely.

I hadn't registered the image until I had propped it back up with the other photos. A much younger Edward with his arms wrapped around a girl with beautiful bright red hair.

A girl with my face.

"Isabella? Are you all right?" Edward was standing in the door to the bedroom. He appeared to have just pulled his jeans back on, and was in the process of buttoning them up.

He registered my shocked expression, and his eyes darted from my face to the broken picture frame on the table. If it was possible, he actually palled.

"Isabella, it's not what you think." He stepped forward into the room, a look of alarm spreading across his features.

"No? Because this looks an awful lot like me. What kind of sick fuck are you?" I could feel tears of anger starting to build. I didn't know who the woman in the photo was, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

My shoes were in the hallway. I quickly slipped them on, grabbed my jacket and fled for the door. I heard him call out behind me, but I didn't stop.

I flew down the steps, exited at the ground floor and ran through the lobby. It opened out onto a busy street, where I threw my hand out to flag down a cab.

My mind reeled. Part of me wanted to go back and demand to know who the woman in the photo was. It wasn't a passing resemblance; it was me with red hair. The other part of me was mortified. It didn't matter who she was. There was a photo of her in Edward's apartment. She was special to him, which meant that I could only be a replacement. Filler at best.

A cab pulled over just as Edward came running out of the building. I climbed in and gave the driver my address. As we pulled away from the curb, I sat back against the seat and closed my eyes. I replayed our conversations through my head…'_I should_ _stay away, but I can't,' 'I won't kiss you because I am protecting myself_.' It was allthere, how could I have been so stupid? So naïve?

My cell phone started to ring. The display showed Edward's name and number. I turned it off. I didn't want to hear his platitudes. I needed to get home, take a shower, and talk to Rose.

Shower.

Shit, I had slept with him. How the hell could I have done that? What the hell was wrong with me? I covered my face with my hands, trying to close out the memory of the afternoon. He had made me feel so wanted, so special. Almost loved. It was all just a game, a sick, twisted game.

He'd promised he'd never hurt me. Everything had been a lie.

This was worse than Mike. At least with him, I always knew where I stood in the pecking order, what I had to compete with. I might not have been his first priority, but I knew that. Edward was worse. He had a photo of a woman in his apartment that looked just like me, and had told me nothing about her. Wife, ex-wife, girlfriend, I didn't know who she was. I didn't want to know.

The cab pulled up in front of my building, and I rummaged through my pockets for money to pay the fare. A tap on the cabbie's door made my head shoot up. I saw money passed through the window.

"You're all set, miss," The driver called over his shoulder.

Out the window, I could see Edward's car double parked across the street. He stood outside the cab, hands shoved in his pockets. His eyes were wide, almost pleading as he watched me.

I climbed out and slammed the door shut behind me, moving as quickly as I could towards my building.

"Just go away. I don't want to hear it." I made a bee line for the door, hoping to be safely inside before he could follow.

"Bella, stop. Please don't run away from me! I need to explain what you saw, make you to understand!" He pleaded.

I spun around, "How dare you fuck with my head for weeks and now call me Bella? It doesn't work that way, Edward. I trusted you! I fucking slept with you! All you've done since we've met is play games with me! You push and you prod to manipulate my emotions. What are you trying to do, make me into someone else? Is that it? Because that is sure as hell what it looks like. What were you going to do next, buy me a red wig or ask me to dye my hair?"

"Bella, please…."

I held up my hand to stop him. "Leave. I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, just leave."

The tears I had been holding at bay were flowing freely now.

"Bella?" A voice called from the doorway.

A voice I knew all too well. What the hell was he doing in London?

Mike stood at the top of the steps, a look of confusion on his face. Emmett towered behind him, arms crossed in a look the clearly communicated 'don't fuck with me.'

"Did you just say that you slept with this guy? Who the hell is he? What is going on?"

Mike was down the steps, trying to step in between Edward and I. As if he was trying to protect his property from a perceived predator. Emmett immediately moved out onto the steps, ready to launch to my defense.

In any other life, this would be comical. The irony of the three men I had kissed in the six months were all gathered on the steps in front of my flat. It had the trappings of a bad romance novel.

I was to angry, to hurt to be rational, so I lashed out at the closest target.

"Just fucking brilliant. What do you want Mike? Another guilt trip to try and lure me back to Chicago? Well you can turn around and go home. I am staying right here. I thought I made it clear that I needed to be my own person."

I pulled away when I felt a hand wrap around my arm. I couldn't look at Edward. I didn't trust myself to resist the lies and half-truths that he had been feeding me. I just needed to get away.

"I've had enough mind games for one day. Actually, for a lifetime. The both of you can go to hell for all I care. Just leave me alone!"

I pushed past Mike and went straight for Emmett. He wrapped me in a bear hug, sheltering me away from them. But it wasn't enough to shut out the things screaming through my brain. Why was I never good enough? Why was it always about what someone else wanted, never about me?

"Please make them go away," I whispered into his chest.

He smoothed down my hair and rubbed my back, "Rose called me to help keep Mike out of your hair. You go upstairs; I'll happily take care of these two."

He released me, and I ran up the steps. I heard Edward call after me before the front door slammed shut behind Emmett.

Rose stood on the landing. The look on her face told me that she had heard everything. Her arms were out wide.

"It will be okay, Bella. Emmett will make them go away, and we'll figure it out. You'll be okay."

I let her rock me back and forth and whisper words of comfort. It didn't matter. None of it mattered.

He was gone. If he had ever really been here in the first place.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Letter**

Isabella;

Before you tear up this letter, please hear me out.

I've tried calling, but it's abundantly clear that you won't answer. I've waited for you outside your flat, but your American friend Emmett seems to have taken up permanent fixture as protector. I can't get near you to try to make this all right.

Please let me explain. I need to make you understand what you saw in my flat. If, after all this, you decide that you hate me, I will understand and respect your wishes to stay away.

When we were at the zoo, you asked who Maggie is. Maggie is, or was, the woman in the picture that you saw at my apartment. The one who looks so very much like you.

I can't begin to imagine the thoughts that went through your head upon seeing that photo. Who was this woman, and what was she to me? I can only assume the thoughts that might have flown through your mind. Was she my wife; my girlfriend; someone that I had been hiding from you.

Maggie was none of those things, but something more. To understand, I need you to bear with me while I tell you a story.

I was ten and Alice seven when Maggie and her parents moved to Whitby from Ireland. She was nine, the cousin of a very close family friend, and immediately fell in with us. She was sweet and shy, and took Alice under her wing like a little sister. Soon enough, she became a fixture in our lives. We made up games, played make believe, were each others' protectors. All those stories I told you about my childhood? Maggie was as much a fixture as Alice was.

When you asked about playing by the Abbey ruins, and Alice being Guinevere, I only told you the partial truth. Alice was Morgan Le Fay so that she could cast spells over Guinevere and the unsuspecting Lancelot. I was never Arthur. I had no desire to be noble. But I did love Maggie. We both did.

Maggie had grown up very differently than Alice and me. Maybe my desire to be Lancelot was to help protect her from all the slings and arrows the other children shot at her. Hers was not an easy life.

As we grew older, things changed. We started to argue a lot. Maggie always seemed to slip under my skin and provoke me. I chalked it up to growing apart. Alice insisted I was in love with her. I loved her; it was impossible not to love her. She was just that type of person. I wasn't so sure about being in love with her though. My feelings had always been fraternal, not romantic.

When I was 17, I was accepted to Kings College. Maggie had a year of school left, and planned to go back to Dublin for University. Once I found out that she wanted to go to Dublin, I applied to school there too. The thought of being away from her tore me apart. I don't know where it came from. Whether it was the fear of being apart from such a major factor in my life, or if I suddenly believed that she was something more. I simply needed to be where she was going to be. Maybe it was because I knew she needed me, some narcissistic God complex on my part. I can't explain it.

I was accepted to school in Dublin, but my parents would not consent to my attending. They found Kings superior and insisted that I go there instead. I gave in, believing that I could get a few years in and then either transfer or apply to medical school there. It would all work out some way.

I told her that right before her seventeenth birthday. It was two weeks before I was scheduled to leave for London.

Maggie hadn't been herself for a few months. Tired, irritable, lashing out for no reason. When I informed her of my plan, she laughed at me. Taunting me that I was an idiot mooning after a child's dream. She told me to go to London and grow up. It was so unlike her. But I was too caught up in the sting of her rejection to dig down and understand that something might be driving her behavior.

I did exactly as she wished. I went to London and never looked back. I took to heart her statement about it being a child's dream. I gave up on medical school in Dublin. Ultimately, it didn't matter. Maggie never went there anyway.

When she was nineteen, Maggie died. Alice and I found out after the fact that Maggie had Leukemia. She'd been diagnosed with it the summer I left for school. It was so far advanced that there wasn't much that could be done for it. At least not much that her parents would allow. They pretty much withdrew when they found out. They stayed in Whitby, but they refused to accept visitors or go out in public. No one was allowed to get near Maggie for fear of making her sick. The last time I saw her was the day she told me I was a fool.

So to answer your question, why did I become a hematologist? Because my best friend from childhood, my first love, the girl that I had planned on rerouting my entire life for, died from a disease of the blood. You called me a modern day blood sucker once. I liken myself more to Van Helsing than Dracula. I want to eliminate the bloodsuckers, not be one. My warped attempt at trying to be a good man, to make something out of this gift of a brain that I was bestowed with. There are times when I feel that it's not good for anything else.

My point in rehashing ancient history is to explain how you fit into all this. I don't know how to articulate or justify my actions. When I first saw you in the doorway of Jasper's office, all I could think was that Maggie had been sent back to me. I pursued you, provoked you, tormented you to find out how much alike might be. It was not noble. I was selfish and totally inconsiderate of what it might do to you. I simply had to find out if this was my second chance. Maggie had been so quiet in life, but she had an incredibly strong spirit. I needed to see if that lurked in you as well.

But I discovered something more than I anticipated. You were your own person. Smart, witty, strong, with passion that Maggie never could have held a candle to. You eclipsed her. And in doing so, it became my mission to find out more about you. Maggie faded into the background, and suddenly there was only Isabella.

And I began to believe that instead of you being a replacement for Maggie, maybe she was in my life for one reason, to prepare me for you. There is a world of difference between the innocence of a childhood love and the all encompassing need of someone who consumes you entirely.

So where does that leave us? I wish you would talk to me, or at least listen to me. I didn't want to hurt you. I wanted to unlock your faith in yourself, help make you realize what an amazing woman you can be. You have so much beauty and potential inside of you. Selfishly, I wanted to bask in that. I hoped that you would turn your beautiful smile on me. I needed you to ask me questions and make me see things differently. I harbored the naïve faith that you could make me a good man again.

It's only been a few days, but I miss you. I hate that you found the picture. I wasn't thinking when I brought you back to my apartment. All I could think about was you. Being with you, how you made me feel, how desperately I wanted you. I became so wrapped up in my need for you that I threw away all rational thought, including what you might find in my flat. I was careless with your feelings, and I did the one thing I promised not to do, I hurt you. It's reprehensible.

I want to go back when you fell asleep. I wish I would have slipped out of bed and put that picture back where it belonged. Then you would have never had to see it. None of this would exist, and the promises I made to you would all still be true. All of them.

And yet, even after everything that happened, I don't regret bringing you back to my flat. If I did, I would have to give up some of the most precious memories that I have of you.

I pray that they aren't my last.

Please call me or come find me. You know where I am. I'll wait for you. I'll always wait for you.

Edward


	17. Chapter 17

**Gchat/Gmail Transcript**

**Chat Transcript: Thursday 2:23 pm**

EMC: How is she?

RHale: Same EMC: Is she eating?

RHale: When I force her

EMC: Mike tried to talk me into taking up his case RHale: Did you break his neck?

EMC: No, but I wanted to - that guy is a prick RHale: More than you know

EMC: How are you holding up?

RHale: Not having this conversation with you EMC: Come on Rose - I'm concerned about you too RHale: I'm fine

EMC: Is there anything I can do? RHale: You are helping Bella EMC: I meant for you

RHale: I don't need to get laid again Emmett. No more. I don't need comfort sex EMC: I don't mean that. You are keeping Bella propped up. I want to help RHale: I'm fine, Emmett

EMC: Will you call if you need anything? You or Bella

RHale: I did before, I will again

_RHale Signed off at 2:42 pm_

_Friday_

_To: Rose Hale_

_From: Mike Newton_

_Subject: Throw me a Bone_

Come on, Rose. I arranged to cover these depositions so that I can talk to Bella. Quit being such a bitch and let me in the apartment. Bella will be pissed if she knows you are keeping me away. You know she belongs with me. I am sure you were the one that pushed her at the British guy. Quit trying to screw up our relationship. It's not about you.

I have to leave next Tuesday. I really want to see her, to work things out. I know that you don't like me, but stop interfering with Bella's happiness. I'm staying at the Grosvenor. She can reach me there or on my cell.

I don't know what I did to make you hate me, but you are only hurting Bella.

Mike

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: FW: Throw me a Bone_

Cut his balls off. So help me god, if he gets anywhere near Bella, I will kill him. She's a fragile mess. I am at a loss. I don't know what else to do to help her. You didn't know her when she was with this asshat – he sucked the life right out of her. She has come so far, and this whole debacle has pushed her right back into all her insecurities. I should kill both of those assholes. Thank you for helping keep them away, no way could she handle them right now.

I am sucking it up and asking for help. What should I do? Why can't I get her to snap out of it?

I feel like I am letting her down and I don't know how to fix it.

Last night she told me that she had sex with the limey prick (thanks for the great nickname). It explains why she is so torn up over this. Prior to last weekend, Bella's only slept with one guy in her entire life, and I wish she hadn't even slept with him. To her, sex is the sign of ultimate trust. She would never do random. They had fallen asleep, and she got up to find some food when she saw a picture of a woman that looked just like her and went into total panic mode. He sent her a letter trying to explain it all, and now she's all turned around.

I snuck a peek at the letter when she was asleep. It's bad, and I don't blame her for freaking out. I would have, and I am a hell of a lot stronger than she is. Want to know the worst part? Even thought the douche never even apologized for what he did, I think I believe him. I think he really does care about her…some of the things he said…

Anyway, she can't bring herself to see it. She's too hurt and too scared. And to have Mike show up on it all compounded it by ten. At least she turned her phone off, that idiot was calling every 30 minutes.

Why do men have to make everything so god damned difficult? And why are we the ones that always get hurt?

R.

_To: Rose Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Throw me a Bone_

I'll gladly cut off Mike's balls. Bella deserves way better. I could tell that based on what little she told me. My impressions since Saturday only reinforce that.

I know where to find the limey. I am going to go talk to him, see if I can't get the other side of the story. Maybe we can find out some way to snap her out of it. I can't stand seeing her like this. If it's like you say, maybe there is a way to draw her out, make her fight back. She needs to believe in herself first before she can worry about anyone else. She is an amazing person if she would just believe it.

Then again, maybe that's all she needs, a little positive reinforcement. She told Mike off after all. Maybe the limey started something good.

Deconstructing Dracula

**Page**

Hmonster4

**113**

And for the record Rose, you were the one that made things difficult. You know exactly how I feel.

Em

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: Re: Throw me a Bone_

If you find him, and he was just fucking with her, cut his balls off too please. I'll bronze them and give them to her for Christmas.

I could hear her crying in her room last night. It was late, and I went in to check on her. She was crying in her sleep. It was the most pathetic, heart breaking thing I've ever seen. I don't know how to make her better.

R.

_To: Rose Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Throw me a Bone_

Just be her friend. Be there for her.

Love can heal all wounds. No one says it has to be romantic.

Em

**Chat Transcript: Monday 9:23 am**

EMC: YT?

RHale: Yes

EMC: I saw the limey

RHale: And?

EMC: He wouldn't tell me details, but insists that Bella reacted without letting him explain

RHale: I can see her doing that EMC: He's a mess too, Rose RHale: Not sure if I care how he is

EMC: All he cares about is that she's okay RHale: Really?

EMC: Yeah - Dude's got it bad RHale: Wow

EMC: Anyway, he wants to talk to her, but understands why we want him to stay away

RHale: Really?

EMC: Why are you surprised? RHale: Not typical guy behavior

EMC: What kind of polling universe did you use to form that opinion? Assholes R Us?

RHale: Fuck off, Emmett

EMC: No, you fuck off Rose. I haven't done anything to piss you off. I don't deserve this

RHale: I'm sorry, I'm just so angry about this whole thing

EMC: I'm over tomorrow night, I'll try and talk to her, get her to open up RHale: Good luck

EMC: Will you be there? RHale: No

EMC: Are you going out with him again? RHale: Why does it matter?

EMC: It matters because you can't have it both ways RHale: You expect me to choose?

EMC: Yes, you can't keep stringing me along

RHale: Funny, I didn't hear you saying no the other night EMC: Quit being a bitch

RHale: Nice, kiss your mother with that mouth

EMC: You weren't complaining about what I did with my mouth RHale: No, I wasn't

EMC: Are you going out with him? RHale: Let it be, Emmett

EMC: No Rose, you let me be. I am tired of your games. Quit fucking with my head.

_EMC Signed off at 2:42 pm_


	18. Chapter 18

_Despair has its own calms._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 12 - Owning Up**

Emmett and Rose appointed themselves my guardians after the debacle in front of our building. No one got near me without their permission, specifically Mike.

Of course, me not leaving the flat made that pretty easy.

For ten days I stayed inside, thinking, dissecting, and second guessing. I only left out of desperation.

Once because we ran out of toilet paper. Once because there was no more wine. And twice because a good Cadbury milk tray and malteasers soothe all pains.

Or at least numbs them for a little while.

My cell phone rang incessantly, so I turned it off. Flowers showed up every day from Mike. I told Rose to throw them away.

She probably would have thrown the letter out had I not seen it lying on the floor by the front door.

I cried when I read it. I cried for me, for Edward, for Maggie, but most of all, for what could have been. I couldn't compete with his memories. He said that maybe she was preparation for me. I doubted that. The simple fact that his initial attraction was based upon my resemblance to someone else pretty much cemented how unlikely it was. He may have developed feelings for me after the fact, but I would always know that they were due to my resemblance to someone else.

I would always be second to a ghost. That was not a fight I could win. And yet part of me couldn't help but want to fight.

It was easier to craft her memory into a nemesis. The great arch rival. It was easier to justify my hatred of a person that I didn't even know.

I felt a bit like the protagonist in Rebecca. How ironic that I had just read it, for the parallels were unnerving. She rushed into marriage with a man she hardly knew after a few weeks of friendship, only to be haunted by the ghost of his dead first wife. I

rushed into bed with Edward after knowing him for just a few weeks, only to find I looked just like his dead childhood sweetheart.

And that is when I realized that I didn't have anyone else to blame. It was my fault for rushing in. I let an extreme physical attraction turn me around, confusing desire with some other emotion. There was no way to develop feelings that deep in less than three weeks. It wasn't logical.

What guarantee was there that what I had seen of him was even real? It could have all been some carefully crafted façade.

And with that realization came a more personal one. Edward brought out feelings and needs in me that I had never experienced. I became a different person with him. It was exciting and exhilarating. I think I liked that person and what she could have been.

Yet to be her, I needed him. It didn't work solo.

And there in lies my quandary. Edward had pursued me purely based on my resemblance to someone else. He had every opportunity to come clean up front, and he'd simply spun a bigger web of deceit. I'd asked him who Maggie was, why hematology. He chose not to answer intentionally. He'd even used my attraction to him as way a to distract, deceive. How could I trust anything from either of us after that?

And then to have Mike standing on my doorstep, a reminder of exactly what I didn't want to go back to, merely reinforced the precarious nature of my current state. I had changed, and I didn't want to be the girl that I was a year ago. But in trying to be something else, I fell flat on my face. It was easier to hide away and wallow than face the fact that this was all my fault. Yes, Mike and Edward had made mistakes too. But at root, I was the one who continued to wipe out. I made the bad decisions; they simply enabled me.

Emmett and Rose, while trying to be helpful, were really no better. They stepped in, picking up the pieces while creating a protective barrier around me. They kept Mike at bay while I pulled myself back together. I know that they did it to protect me, but in protecting me, they only further reinforced a harsh realization.

I don't want to be a china doll. They didn't need to protect or coddle me, I needed to learn how to cope on my own..

Yet to say that would be ungrateful. What Rose and Emmett did, they did because they cared about me. Their intentions were pure. I made sure Rose knew how grateful I was for her support. She tried to get me to open up about what happened with

Edward, but it was so embarrassing to talk about it. It was bad enough admitting it to myself. I didn't want to see the look of pity on her face.

In their way of protecting me, they never left me alone. One, if not both of them, was always around, always there to lend a shoulder, buck me up, try to make me laugh. But Emmett and Rose attempting to coexist in the same space for my benefit was a painful experience. After more than a few verbal sparring matches, they agreed to alternate their time.

Tonight, she was out with Royce. He was taking her to some dandified social affair. At least that's what Emmett called it. He decided we should do the exact opposite, insisting that there wasn't much better in life than Chinese take out and watching a movie.

We sat on the couch with take out containers and chopsticks, watching _Bram Stoker's_ _Dracula_. It had actually been Emmett's idea. He said it had been ages since he lastwatched it, and wanted to see if "Ted" was really as bad as he remembered.

"Are you going to eat the last of the chicken and snow peas?" Emmett peeked over the edge of the take out container, chopstick poised.

"Have at it. I gorged myself." I leaned against the back of the couch and took a drink of water. "Em, it's not that I don't appreciate the company, but you know you don't have to keep a suicide watch over me."

"That's not something to joke about. Did you ever stop to think that I just enjoy your company?" He teased. He really had been amazing through everything. He'd become like a big brother to me, as embedded in my life now as Rose. Maybe even more so in some ways.

But I'd noticed of late that he wasn't quite as happy go lucky as he once had been. He laughed, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes. Something was on his mind, and I'd been so caught up in my own issues that I hadn't paid attention to much of what was going on around me.

"She really is like Rose, isn't she?" Emmett mused as he watched the woman playing Lucy flit across the screen.

He sounded so sad.

"Yeah. It's kind of amazing how Rose parallels the story."

We watched in silence as Lucy flirted with her three suitors on screen. Teasing and taunting.

"I can appreciate how Quincey felt. Tease me, make comments about my big knife, and then leave me while some limey sits on my hat."

This was new territory for us. I knew about Rose and Emmett's escapade in the kitchen, but I'd never spoken of it to Emmett. I didn't feel right, betraying Rose's trust. She was my best friend.

But he was my friend too, and he was hurting in his own way.

"Somehow, I can't see you in anything other than a baseball cap," I joked, trying to lighten things up in the hopes of seeing that amazing smile.

Emmett set the takeout container down, and slipped his arm around my shoulders so that I could rest my head on his chest. "Why couldn't we have made it, Bella? We get along so well, we laugh, we are great friends. We were both attracted to each other initially. It would have made life so much easier."

I fidgeted with one of the buttons on his oxford. "That it would, Em. In hindsight, I wish we would have tried…"

"But now we've both got them under our skin, and there is no way to get free, is there?" He observed quietly. It felt strange to hear Emmett be so vulnerable. He was always so bold, so confident. I wish there was something I could do to make Rose realize what she was missing out on.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question? You can tell me to piss off if you want," He asked cautiously.

"Shoot."

"What does she see in that guy? Royce? I've seen him come in to take her to lunch a few times. He's always such a dickwad. Chatting up the receptionist and eye fucking every woman who walks by."

I wondered the same thing myself. Royce was unlike any other man I'd ever seen Rose date. He was attractive, but not the smooth, confident type she usually went for. The only truly unique thing that registered was how he catered to her ego. Constant flowers, expensive dinners and gifts. Maybe that was why he was still around. I adored Rose, but her ego could get the best of her at times.

"I don't know, Em. I don't get it. I wish I could give you some sage insight, but I am all out of that these days."

He barked out a wry laugh and smoothed my hair down. "How are you feeling now that you had some space and time to think?"

"Like shit. Like an idiot. Part of me wonders if Mike is right. Should I just pack it up and go back to Chicago. Chalk this up to a failed experiment." I took a deep breath, trying to center my thoughts. "But at the same time, I can't bring myself to leave here. I can't walk away without accomplishing what I came here to do."

"Your dissertation?' He asked quietly.

"Yeah. It's not so much about my education any more. I feel like I owe it to myself. London was supposed to be about standing on my own, realizing who I am. I need to start doing that." It was the truth. This was about me now, not a book or a paper. If there was one thing I had learned through this whole experience; it was time to start putting myself first. I shouldn't need a man to prop me up; I needed to learn to do that on my own.

"You do owe it to yourself, Bella. You don't want to be like her do you?" He pointed at Mina on the screen. "She took the easy way. It was always about everyone else, never about her. I bet if she could do it over again, she would have told both the Count and Jonathan to piss off and struck out on her own."

"She lived in Victorian times, Emmett, it wasn't an option."

He nudged me a bit with his shoulder. "Work with me here. We are talking about vampires, and you can't suspend belief to think she could have gone her own way? What kind of imagination do you have?"

"It's people like you that give vampires a bad name."

"Au contraire. I'd make a fabulous vampire. I just don't think I'd do the cape...although I could definitely rock a tux."

He had managed to lighten up the conversation and got me to laugh. He'd also laid a seed of doubt in my mind. What happens to our lives when we choose the safe or easy way?

"You know that the book wasn't this way, don't you? The Dracula, love story thing."

He rolled his eyes and squeezed my shoulder. "Work with me brainiac, I am trying to make a point."

I smiled and continued to fiddle with the button on his shirt. "What are you going to do, Emmett?"

"Only thing I can do. Love her from afar, and hope that she comes around."

A knot formed in the back of my throat at his simple yet eloquent statement. He was confident in his love for Rose, and had hope that she would come around, eventually.

"I love her too, Em. But she doesn't deserve you. No one does."

He laughed. "Thanks, Bella. Not sure I am ready to lead a lonely life of perfection, but I appreciate the vote of confidence."

We watched the rest of the movie in silence. So much of it was tainted by the past weeks. Mina's interactions with the Count in his human form reminded me of my time with Edward. Of how he had lured me in, spun me around and baited me. It had been two weeks since we were together, and I missed him. I missed our conversations. I missed how he could help me pull out thoughts and see things differently.

But I couldn't get past the simple fact that, like the movie, his attraction to me was based on my resemblance to someone else. I wanted to be able to get past it, but I didn't want to settle either. I had already done too much of that in life

As the movie started to run through the credits, I stood and gathered up our take out containers.

"Do you want to take any of this home with you? There is no way that we can…"

A loud thump against the door made me jump. I could hear Rose speaking, but couldn't make out what she was saying. Once he registered that it was Rose, Emmett was on his feet and across the room in a flash. He jerked the door open and Rose fell backwards into his arms, as if she had been leaning up against the door. Royce stood in the hallway, a murderous look on his face.

There was an awkward silence as Emmett and Royce sized each other up. Rose had managed to straighten up enough to stand on her own. She pushed her hair away from her face.

"Go home and sober up, Royce. We'll talk about this later."

She slammed the door and turned to storm towards her bedroom. Emmett caught her wrist before she could flee.

"Hey, are you okay?" I could hear the concern in his voice.

"I'm fine you big oaf. Now get your damn hand off me!"

Emmett dropped his hand like he'd been burnt. "I just wanted to make sure that he hadn't hurt you."

Rose paused mid stride and turned to back to Emmett, a look of bewilderment on her face.

"What?"

Emmett looked just as confused by Rose stopping. "I wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you."

They stood there, staring as if seeing each other for the first time. I took it as a sign to leave them alone. I quietly crept into my room and closed the door.

It was getting late, but I wasn't tired, and felt a bit claustrophobic in the confined space. I tried to read, tried to listen to music, tried to watch a movie on my iPod. Nothing worked.

I finally gave up and dropped it on the end table next to my cell phone. I had turned it off to avoid the constant calls from Mike. I really hadn't thought about Edward trying to call me.

He'd mentioned in his letter that he'd attempted to get a hold of me. Let's see if it's true. I grabbed the phone off the nightstand, powering it up. Once the display was lit, I hit the button for voicemail.

An automated voice told me I had 67 messages.

I closed my eyes and listened. Whenever the voice gave me a Chicago area code, I immediately deleted it. I would deal with Mike, and make him go away once and for all. Just not tonight.

There was only one person I wanted to hear. Maybe it was self flagellation, but I needed to know.

His first few messages were pleas for me to answer, to call him back.

Then the explanation. It took a few messages, as he kept getting cut off. It was the same as the letter.

It was the remaining twelve messages that did me in.

"_It's Monday morning, and I am sitting here staring at a computer screen. I should be_ _working, but I can't stop thinking about you."_

"_I dreamed about you last night. I wish you were here so I could tell you about it."_

"_I went to the zoo this morning. I stood against the wall in the reptile house and_ _remembered what it felt like to kiss you for the first time."_

"_I had dinner with Alice and Jasper today. She asked about you. I told her you were_ _doing well, just busy. I hope it's true."_

"_It's Thursday. I miss you."_

"_I can't stay away. I stood across the street and watched your window last night, on_ _the off chance that I would see you. Just seeing the light come on in your flat made me happy."_

"_Went to the bookstore and bought Dracula today. It's been so long since I read it; I_ _wanted to see if my memories did me justice. Every time they mention Mina, my visual is of you."_

"_I dreamed about you again last night. I woke up so happy, it felt so real. But then I_ _realized it was just a dream and nothing had changed. Please come back to me. I miss you."_

"_It's Sunday. It's been a week. Would you please call me back? I miss you."_

"_I finished Dracula, and bought Rebecca. I can see you standing on the ocean cliffs,_ _just like the protagonist in the book. She struggled to believe that Maxim truly cared about her and not Rebecca. It makes me sad that you feel the same."_

"_I came home today to find that my cleaning service had come. They changed the_ _linens. My bed doesn't smell like you anymore. It felt like I had lost you for good."_

"_Please look out your window. Please let me know that you are okay. I just need to_ _know that you are okay."_

The messages ripped the metaphorical scab right off the wound. I'd never stopped to think about how Edward felt when I ran out of his flat. I had blocked out his feelings, his desires as a way to insulate myself. It made it easier to focus on my mistakes, my issues. I never stopped to think about anything he might be feeling.

I set down my phone and lay in the dark. My mind was frantically digging through the short bank of memories, trying to dredge up anything that would help me stay angry with him. I needed the anger. If not, I'd give in and go running back. I deserved more than that. I deserved to be the first choice.

I gave up and allowed the memories of our last day together to flood in. What Edward looked like when he laughed. The wonder on his face as I tried to collect myself in his car. The simple, sweet declaration of thanks after he made love to me.

I kept trying to convince myself that it was just sex. If I was being honest with myself on everything else, I had to fess up on that too. It hadn't been. At least not for me. Try as I might, I couldn't diminish that there had been something more between us.

Standing to grab a ponytail holder off the dresser, I paced my room, twisting my hair in a messy knot at the nape of my neck. The curiosity was killing me, and I finally gave in.

I stepped to the window, moving aside the draperies so that I could look out.

He was there. Leaning up against his car, arms crossed over his chest. It had to be cold outside.

When he saw me, he straightened up a bit, as if acknowledging my presence. I felt like his eyes were burning a hole right through me. I didn't know what to do.

Finally, I stepped back and dropped the curtain back in place. A moment later, my phone chirped.

I picked it up, and read the text message from Edward.

_Thank you. I miss you._

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before typing out a reply.

_I'm ok. Just need some time. Go home, it's cold._

I turned off my phone and crawled into bed before he could reply. It took every shred of willpower not to go running down to the street. There were too many things to deal with first.

I wasn't sure how much later it was when Rose knocked on my door and let herself in. She had changed into sweats and a t shirt, and crawled in bed to curl up behind me.

"You okay?" She asked gently.

"It's a relative statement these days. You?"

She sighed and wrapped an arm around me. "Confused."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Rose paused. I didn't probe, instead choosing to let her speak on her own terms. "I can't even put it into words."

I knew how she felt.

We lay together for a long time. Neither of us spoke. Proximity and understanding was enough to lend comfort.

When Rose did finally get up to go to her room, I called after her.

"Rose? I wish I could turn back time. I would have chased Emmett with everything I had in me. I might not be you, but I could have made him happy."

She gave me a sad smile and closed the door. I knew her well enough to know that my words stuck a nerve. Maybe she needed the rug pulled out from under her too.

Wish as I might, I couldn't turn back the clock. Emmett would forever belong to Rose, whether she wanted him or not. What did that mean for me? Would I forever want what I ran away from?

That's what I had done, run away. From an explanation, from the fear of another disappointment, of not being the one that he wanted.

I felt like a little girl, lying in bed trying to create her own personal happily ever after. I wanted someone to love and want me. Not because I was window dressing on the great career and perfect life. Not as a reminder of someone else. Me. Bella. I wanted to live, wanted to feel. Not the stunted half life that I had built for myself in Chicago. It was time to stop wallowing, pull myself up and figure it out. Me. No one else could do it. I owed that to myself.

I rolled over on my side and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. No more hiding. Step one, turn the phone back on. Step two, go back to work. Step three, call Mike and put an end to his delusions once and for all. I needed to get my head back on the game.

The phone glowed as I powered it back up. I sat it down on the nightstand, and was ready to go back to sleep when it beeped. Two text messages waited for me.

_Come downstairs, just for a minute_

_Come back to me, please_

He would not stop until I spoke to him. I wasn't ready yet. I needed time, space to sort out my life. Maybe once that was done, we could talk. He could tell me his story, and I could decide whether or not it was in me to forgive and accept that there could be something there.

I tapped out a quick message in reply.

_Please give me time. I'll find you once I take care of a few things. I promise._

I hit send and lay back on my pillow, dropping the phone on the bed beside me. I knew it was only a matter of time before he replied.

_I'll wait. I won't give up on you. I miss you._

I tapped out a reply, and set the phone down for the night.

_Good night Edward. I miss you too. Sleep well._


	19. Chapter 19

_We learn from failure, not from success!_

**Chapter 13 - Big Girl Decisions**

After my heart to heart with Emmett, I forced myself to pull it together and get back into the day to day rhythm I'd established upon my arrival in London.

The first few days back at Kings were spent sorting through my research and rereading what I had written so far. Had it always felt this shallow? There was no hook, no 'aha!' to make it compelling. All my thoughts were absolutely unremarkable.

And then I tripped across the innocent/wife/whore article. When I first read it, I would have considered myself as innocent. No, I wasn't a virgin by any stretch, but the reality of my experiences and how I lived life lent more to it. I wondered if my recent behavior now moved me into the whore camp. Sex with a man I hardly knew. Men fighting over me in front of my home.

It wasn't very keeping with the image of a proper young lady.

It was stupid to let the hypocrisy of gender roles get under my skin, but it did. Women of the Victorian Era were held to ridiculously high standards, while it seemed that men could do what ever they wanted. It reminded me of a saying from high school; it takes a slut to make a stud and a stud to make a slut.

Times and labels may change but at root the concept remains the same.

The men in Dracula were bold, their actions decisive. Everything mapped back to claiming or protecting a woman. Whether it was out of love, sense of duty, or physical hunger, they pursued what they wanted. The women, on the other hand, were judged for every move they made. The wrong decision could ruin them.

I dropped my pen on the table and ran my hands through my hair. It really wasn't that easy was it?

I stood to pace the room, building out the arc in my mind. The creation of the characters, the blatant sexuality in biting, sucking of blood, transfusions. The women were pursued and preyed upon, yet required to fight the very instincts that men were expected to live by. The men in the story chased, fought and killed, even gave blood for these women. And for all of their actions, the men would ultimately face one of two consequences; rejection or death.

On the other hand, the women in _Dracula_ were expected to fight their sexuality; to live up to Victorian morals, yet weren't they ones that had the ultimate control? While they were held to a ridiculously high set of standards, their decisions and actions were what influenced the reactions of the men in the book.

Their choices set the entire thing in motion. They had all the control. Literal vampire, emotional vampire, they both ultimately led to ruin of some kind.

I pumped my fist in the air, and then looked around in embarrassment, hoping no one noticed me acting 'overly American.' Months, no, years of struggling with how to pull together a truly unique analysis, and all I need to do was go out and have some earth shattering sex. Holy shit.

It was easy to get wrapped up in the cynicism of the moment. Anger and justification were easier to deal with than self reflection.

The next few days were a blur. I buried myself in the library, digging up information on Victorian customs and socialization. I lived on coffee and campus food as I blew through my outline. I shut out everything except eat, sleep, work.

I had intended to own up and face the things that needed to be dealt with, specifically ending it with Mike once and for all. But the siren call of my aha moment pulled me in full force. This is what I came to London to figure out.

At the end of three days, I had updated my working outline to incorporate the additional insights. I had roughly seventy pages already written, and it would be easy to adjust the existing content while allowing for the slight change in direction going forward. Getting to a full draft and polishing it should only take about six weeks. Two months, tops.

I felt like I had gone to war and won. I was exhausted but ecstatic. I was going to pull this out after all.

I made an appointment to drop my outline by Jasper's office on Tuesday morning. He responded with enthusiasm to my description, and told me that he wouldn't miss it for the world.

I didn't stop to think about his connections until after I hung up.

Wonder if Edward told Alice what had happened? And if Edward told Alice, I would have to assume that Jasper knew too. This could get awkward.

I walked home from campus tired but jubilant. This week had been a giant leap forward for me. My personal life might be a convoluted mess, but I had cracked the code on a huge part of the puzzle. I might be able to cross the completion of my education off the list after all.

I was so happy that I didn't register someone sitting on the steps to our building until I almost bowled him over.

"Hey Bells." Mike stood and brushed off the back of his trench coat.

I don't know what surprised me more; him actually being here, or the fact that he was sitting on the front steps waiting for me. Mike didn't wait for anyone.

"I was hoping we could talk. I have to head back to Chicago tomorrow, and I didn't want to leave without seeing you."

I was torn. My head was still in my research, and I wanted to get upstairs to rattle out some points I had thought of on the walk home. But Mike was leaving tomorrow, and I owed him the common courtesy of at least hearing him out.

I looked at my watch. It was getting close to dinner time, and I hadn't eaten lunch.

"I agree, we do need to talk. I also need to eat. There is a great pub not to far from here, you want to join me?"

Mike frowned, his look incredulous. "You'll talk that easily? I've been trying to get to you for weeks!"

"Do you want to go or not? I can change my mind just as easily." I put my hands on my hips and tapped my foot impatiently. I was willing to talk, but I wasn't going to tolerate him being an ass.

Wow, I was standing up to Mike. Go me.

He was taken aback, unsure of how to proceed given my brusqueness. Then he sighed and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. "Lead the way."

Distance and perspective were amazing things. I never stopped to think about what Mike and I did or did not do when we were a couple. I couldn't remember a time when we actually went to grab food on a whim. Everything had been planned out, choreographed down to where, who, why. There was always a reason for everything. And reasons typically corresponded to status. No cool dive burger joints or hole in the wall pubs. Only the best of the best. Yet more trappings. It made me wonder what of my old life had actually been real.

We walked the few blocks to the pub in silence. In the past, Mike would have jabbered on about something and I would have nodded in acknowledgement and added the periodic ummhmm. Maybe I wasn't the only one who had changed.

We were early enough to find a table without any problem, and fell into an awkward silence after ordering our drinks. As was expected, Mike ordered a Stella Artois.

"It seems like you've settled in here quite well." He started, trying to spark some type of conversation. It fell flat, and I couldn't decide if his comment was a legitimate observation or an attempt at a cheap shot.

"Getting there. I'm really enjoying it. And being here has done wonders for my dissertation. I finally nailed the whole arc, and I think it's really good."

"Seems like you made friends fast."

I wasn't sure if he was referencing Emmett or what had happened the night I found him on the front steps.

"I got lucky and met a few nice people."

The more I thought about his comment, the more confident I felt in my decision to end things with him. I finally found the approach for my dissertation, the one thing that I have been struggling with for ages, and all he could comment on were the friends I'd made? Yet another case of him not getting what was important to me.

Before I could respond, our waitress returned with drinks. We sat quietly while she deposited glasses on the table. We both deferred when she asked us if we wanted to order a starter.

"Since when do you like dark beer?" Mike eyed my pint skeptically. "What is that?"

"Old Speckled Hen. It's good. And this isn't dark by any means."

"You hate stuff like that. The darkest thing I ever saw you drink is Stella."

I smiled, shaking my head in disbelief. "Mike, that's because it's all you ever had. If we were going out, it was typically somewhere that was wine appropriate. You're the one that likes pale beer."

It was such a little thing, but it truly was the perfect reflection or our relationship. Mike viewed me through his filter. My likes and dislikes had been formed based on my place in his world. It wasn't a true reflection of me. It never had been.

I had a mental flash of me vs the Bella that Mike saw. Concert T's vs. sweater sets. Hanging out a coffee bar vs. hanging out at an art exhibition. While I was happy to take his version some of the time, he had never willingly accepted mine.

That is when I realized that Mike didn't do it to be malicious. He had his way of life. I had done what I could to fit into that. I made the choice to compromise, not him.

I just didn't want to anymore.

"So if you've figured out your dissertation, does that mean you're coming home soon?"

His question caught me off guard. I'd been playing with some of the outline holes and only partially listening to him.

"I'm guessing that it will take me two months to wrap up my draft. I'll submit it to the review committee, and they'll set a date for my defense based on that."

"You'll come back to Chicago then?'

"Of course I will. I have to be there in person to defend my dissertation."

"But what about after, Bella? What then?"

I'd never heard Mike sound sad. Four years together, and I was coming to realize that we knew very little about each other.

"I don't know. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure that out. I sent my CV out for a few positions. I'm a bit behind the eight ball for finding something for the fall term, but I had to at least try. Beyond that, I'm not sure." I took a sip of my pint as a way to buy some time.

"You aren't going to stay in Chicago, are you?"

I didn't expect him to be quite so direct in his line of questioning. Everything to date had been about Mike. It had always been assumed as an extension of him.

"I don't know. I honestly don't."

He nodded, staring at the glass in front of him. "I really didn't think you would go to London when you told me. I thought it was all your way of proving a point. And then when you did go, I believed that you would come back after a few weeks. You never worked without me before, Bella. How can you work without me now?"

And there it was. What I would have given to hear that a year ago.

"Mike, I didn't work without you then because there was no 'me.' I was an extension of you. You told me what to drink, what to wear. You chose where we went and who we interacted with. I had no identity beyond you. And after a while, that melded into something unhealthy. I lost my perspective. I bought into the things you said, and it made me doubt who I was, what I could be."

Mike sighed. He was slowly tearing apart his cocktail napkin. Tiny shreds littered the table.

I had never seen him show a sign of doubt, of insecurity. Who was this man sitting across for me?

"All I ever wanted was to help you get through your doctorate so we could move on with the life we had planned."

"But see, that's just it, Mike. It wasn't the life we planned; it was the life you planned. Do you think I spent years in school just to be a trophy wife?"

"I never wanted you to be a trophy wife, Bella. I thought you wanted what I wanted. You could volunteer; get involved with the local library…"

I held my hand up, cutting him off. "That was your plan, Mike. Not mine. I am not that girl. I'm sorry if you feel like I tricked you into believing that. I know I had myself fooled for years. But that is not who I want to be."

Mike looked up at me, and I was surprised to see tears in his eyes. We both had changed so much in the past few months. Either that or we had never really known each other to begin with.

I didn't want to believe that. I had loved him once. But it wasn't the kind of love that lasted. We'd both evolved, and in doing so, we had forced each other into molds to fit what we thought would work. It didn't build a foundation, instead it bred resentment.

"I have a flight back to Chicago in the morning. Will you please call me when you come back to defend your dissertation? I'd like to see you. I know that you say it's not there anymore, but I can't give up hope…"

As much as I knew we were over, it hurt to see him this way. We'd spent four years together, and I truly didn't wish him ill.

"Yes, I'll let you know when I am coming back,"

He stood, and dropped some money on the table. "I am not giving up on you, Bella. When you come back to Chicago, we can talk again. I'll prove to you that we are meant to be."

He leaned over to kiss me goodbye. I turned so that he caught my cheek. He gave me a sad smile and turned to leave.

I watched Mike walked out of the pub, his head held high. This was closure for me. On Mike, on the person I had been. Now it was time to focus on what I could become.

I raised my pint. Here's to the new me.

I didn't have it all figured out. But I had a start.

As I sat in a little hole in the wall pub in London, I couldn't help but laugh. Life's great traumas have a way of giving one perspective. On a whim, I pulled out my cell phone and tapped out a quick message. I hit send before I could second guess myself.

I had a reply almost immediately. Twenty minutes later, Emmett walked in the door.

"What are we celebrating? Not that I need a reason to drink or anything."

"Me."

"While you are one of my favorite people, and I am happy to celebrate anything in relation to you, you'll have to explain that one more." Emmett flipped his chair around and sat down, his arms draped over the seat back. He must have been a regular, for the waitress appeared with a pint unsolicited, giving a quick wink before she withdrew.

Leave it to Emmett to have women fawning over him everywhere.

I recapped coming home to find Mike on the front steps, our conversation at the pub, and how I stood my ground. By the time I finished, Emmett was grinning from ear to ear. He held his pint up to me. I couldn't help but smile as I clinked my glass against his.

"You are pulling yourself up and figuring it out girlie. The paper, Mike. I'm proud of you."

We both took a long sip of our beers. I couldn't stop smiling.

"I don't have it all figured out yet, but it's a start in the right direction. What is all that self help bullshit about loving yourself first? I am going to love myself so much it will make you puke."

Emmett raised his beer in my direction. "Well, I for one am glad you are getting it together. Maybe then you can help me sort out what the hell I am going to do."

Emmett's legitimate concern over Rose's wellbeing seemed to crack through her wall of resistance. They had slowly started to coexist, and I had actually caught them laughing together a few times. Rose played it off as détente for my benefit, but I knew her better than that.

It made me happy for Emmett, but worried at the same time. Rose was still seeing Royce. Emmett knew that, yet it was clear that he had his hopes up.

For the first time in memory, I found myself really angry at Rose. She was playing two guys off each other. While I was in no means a fan of Royce, he didn't deserve that any more than Emmett did.

"I wish I could give you some great insight, Em. But I really have no clue where her head is at." Other than up her ass.

He smiled wistfully and stared into his pint. "You know what, Bella; it's getting hard to be around her. I don't want to be the one standing by to pick up the pieces when the current path she's on gets ugly."

"Why do you say that?"

"It's just a feeling. I don't trust that Royce dude. I've mentioned before how he acts when he picks her up. And I don't believe her whole 'it was just a misunderstanding' mumbo jumbo. Something hit your apartment door. It was either Rose or his hand. I'm not sure which I hope for."

While I had registered the thud against the door that night, I'd never stopped to consider what might have caused it. I couldn't fathom Rose putting up with anyone hassling her. It had to be something else.

Rosalie Hale didn't take shit from anyone.

We slipped into conversation about other, lighter subjects. It had been a long time since I'd laughed really hard, but a few pints, a bit of self confidence, and Emmett telling me dirty jokes was just enough to send me into fits of hysterics. At one point he had me laughing so hard that I cried.

We walked home rattling off all the British slang that we'd learned, trying to stump each other with their meanings. That proceeded to all the euphemisms we could come up with for sex.

"Shag."

Not to be one upped, I threw out another. "Bonk!"

"Ohhh, nice. She thinks she's good, but how about bang?"

"Too easy," I shot back.

"I know you are but what am I?"

I made a face at Emmett. "Okay, fine. How's your father?"

"What?"

"You heard me. How's your father?"

"I thought we were on Brit slang for sex, not my family." Emmett looked confused.

"We are. And it is. How's your father?"

Emmett threw up his hands in disgust. "I am not even going to try and top that. You win. Good night, sex on the brain."

He slapped me a high five as I let myself into the building. "I'll give you a shout later in the week. And I demand a rematch!"

"Bring it Redneck. I'll kick your sorry pasty arse!" I shouted after him. I could hear him laughing down the block.

I just got the door to the flat open when my cell phone chirped. I flipped it open:

_Lovin a duck_

The message was from Edward. What the hell?

I was debating whether or not to respond when my phone chirped again.

_Another term. He won't know it. It was good to see you smiling and laughing._

I dropped my bag and ran to look out the window. I was just in time to see a black Aston Martin make the turn.

Edward had been true to his promise; he was giving me time. He'd not contacted me since our text exchange.

I wasn't sure how I felt knowing that he was waiting outside my flat. Was he there to try to talk to me? Was he watching me? In a way it was sweet, touching. In other ways it was very creepy, stalkerish.

But I couldn't find it in my heart to be scared or angry at him.

I flipped open my phone and tapped out a quick reply.

_Thanks. If I win big, I'll split the pot with you._

The reply back was almost immediate.

_Deal._

I stared at my phone, debating for a moment.

_How are you?_

I sat down on the couch and waited for his reply.

_Okay, You?_

I hit buttons on my phone, not thinking, just reacting.

He answered on the first ring. The words came rolling out with no rhyme or reason.

"I figured my dissertation out. It's good, and it's really original. I think I might have a winner." I couldn't help it, the pride and enthusiasm rang through loud and clear.

"That is wonderful; I'm happy for you. What did Jasper say?" He did sound sincerely happy for me.

"I am showing him what I've got tomorrow. Based on his feedback, it will be great guns now."

We were both quiet for a long moment, unsure of what to say next.

"Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. You may not realize it, but you did help me figure it out. My paper, that is."

I heard what sounded like a sigh. "I am truly happy for you, Isabella."

Another pregnant pause filled the space between us, both unsure of what to say.

"I should really…" I started

"I'm sorry." Edward said quietly.

"I need to go, Edward. It's late."

"I understand. Get some sleep." He hesitated for a moment. "I am sorry. For a lot of things."

"I am too, Edward." I took a deep breath. "I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"That would be wonderful. Good night, Isabella."

I couldn't help but smile a bit. It was nice to hear him say my name. "Good night, Edward."

He disconnected, and I flipped my phone shut, staring at the window onto the street. I was figuring it out, piece by piece.

More importantly, I was doing it on my own.


	20. Chapter 20

_I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may_

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 14 - Natural Disaster**

It's been two weeks since I called Edward and said goodbye to Mike.

No text messages. No phone calls. I hadn't seen him outside of our building.

It was like he had disappeared into thin air. I'd asked him to give me time to figure things out. I'd told him that I would re-engage when I was ready.

I wish he hadn't listened to me. I told him that I would call him when I was ready. I wasn't ready by any stretch, but that didn't mean that I didn't want to talk to him.

I am such a hypocrite. Give me time, don't leave me alone. I don't want to be a replacement for someone else, but I'll take whatever you'd give me.

But what would I say if we did talk? That I wasn't sure enough about myself to trust him? That I was a coward, and was afraid that being around him would make me want to settle for less than I deserved?

The quiet fed my doubts about what the future could hold for us. I'd still not allowed myself to reconcile his intentions in pursuing me based on my resemblance to Maggie. I didn't want to; for fear that answer wouldn't be the one I wanted. It was easier to push it away, to divert, than consider the situation and what it could mean.

What is that lovely old saying, denial is a river in Egypt? I might as well enjoy my float time.

So I kept myself busy and pushed the questions about Edward to the back of my mind. I buried myself in my work.

In the spare moments I missed him. Or I missed what I thought I knew of him.

My dissertation became my personal crusade. A way to find something positive out of the havoc I'd wrought. Every waking moment was poured into writing, filling small holes in my research. It kept the fear at bay, but not the consequences or knowledge of my actions. That was apparent in every word I typed, in every page completed.

Angel/Whore

Saint/Sinner

Saved/Damned

I used the subject matter as a way to channel my thoughts, my fears, my frustrations. It was easier to do that than face the fact that I was as culpable in this mess as Edward was.

I was the one who rushed into bed with him before asking questions. I couldn't fault him for questions that I hadn't asked. It would be all too easy to try to blame him, to lay the responsibility at his feet.

But in reality, it came to rest squarely on both of our shoulders.

The only breaks in my quest came when Emmett or Rose insisted that I come up for air. They would try to lure me to museums, to shows, other things so uniquely London. I would give in simply to get them off my back. I allowed small blocks of time for frivolous diversions. If I gave in every so often, it was guaranteed that they would leave me alone for a few days after.

And while I drove myself into the ground, I found a partner to keep me company.

I spent nights in our flat watching Emmett fade away. The spark, the light that infused everything about him slowly began to dim. His smiles didn't come as easily as they once had. I'd caught him a few times, watching Rose sadly. They had come to some sort of understanding that night in our flat. She was less averse to spending time with him, and I was pretty sure I had walked in on 'something' a few times. Cheeks red, body language awkward.

But Rose refused to stop dating Royce, and I could see the pained look on Emmett's face when Royce would appear at our flat. He was like a man condemned. He wanted to be with Rose in anyway he could, even if it meant he had to watch her leave with someone else. Better that he be near the source of his longing and submit himself to self flagellation than miss a moment without her.

It made me angry. Or angrier. Why did life conspire to make people so miserable? It felt like a petty child's game; who can we make unhappy today?

Why did we have to love the people who could only hurt us?

What business did I have even talking about love?

One night, at the end of March, I came home to find Rose sitting on the couch flipping listlessly through the channels.

"What are you doing home? I thought you were going out tonight?"

"I changed my mind. Royce had some dinner to go to that would have required me to totally trick out. I didn't feel like being arm candy, so I told him I had to work." She dropped the remote on the coffee table. "You look beat. Did you eat dinner?"

"Yeah, I grabbed something on campus." I left my bag by the door, and flopped down in a chair. "And I am beat. My backside hurts from those awful chairs."

"Well, at least your butt is the only thing falling asleep." Rose stretched her legs out, feet resting on the coffee table. "It feels weird for it to be just the two of us. I hadn't realized how much Emmett hangs around."

"What's the deal with you guys anyway?"

Rose shifted, as if uncomfortable with the question. She combed her fingers through the fringe on a throw pillow buying some time.

"We have fun; we hang out."

The cavalier nature of her response was the spark that lit the pile of resentment and anger I'd been building for weeks.

"Is that what you are calling it these days? You're jerking him around, you know that don't you?" I didn't usually dabble in Rose's relationships, but I hated seeing what this was doing to Emmett.

"Since when do you care what happens to the guys I date?" She shot back.

"Since the guy you are screwing with happens to be my friend. He's a great guy who doesn't deserve your cast offs."

I'd never really stood up to Rose, and I think we were both shocked by my tone.

"Are you sure you aren't harboring a crush?" Rose's tone was cool. I was pushing her, and she didn't like it.

"No, Rose, I've had more than my share of relationship bliss for a while, thank you very much. I'd like something with depth, not courtesy fucks." I could feel the anger coursing through me, looking for a target. "As for me harboring a crush, I had every opportunity in the world to have a go at Emmett, but I didn't. For once maybe you are the one getting someone else's sloppy seconds."

My face was bright red as soon as the words were out. What has happened to me? Who was this vindictive, spiteful woman?

"Ha! Like you can even talk about courtesy fucks. You have one random encounter and come running home like Chicken Little. Why don't you come back and lecture me when you know what you're talking about."

We stared each other down, neither willing to give in.

Finally, I stood up and stalked into the kitchen.

"I hope he wises up and dumps you on your ass. He deserves better than what you give him."

I grabbed a container of yogurt and a spoon out of the refrigerator and headed for my room.

"That's my yogurt!" Rose shouted behind me.

I spun around, launching in without thinking. "Yes, Rose, we know, everything is yours. It's all about you and what you want or need. Little miss perfect gets everything she wants. Fuck anyone else. I never realized just how damn selfish you are."

I slammed the yogurt down on the coffee table. Droplets of purple cream splattered on the coffee table. That's it Bella, just keep adding fuel to the fire.

"There you go, enjoy it. It's a mess just like everything else you touch." Not waiting for her retort, I stormed into my room and slammed the door.

I sat on my bed, trying to slow my breathing and collect my thoughts. Why was I so angry? Yes, Rose was treating Emmett like garbage, and I didn't like to see a friend get hurt. But what gave me the right to question her behavior? It was her life, not mine.

I lay back on my bed and studied the ceiling. There was a giant knot of anger choking out my ability to breathe. It had been growing inside me for weeks, and I needed to get it out. Rose wasn't right, but she didn't deserve me unloading on her like that either. She was just in the line of fire.

Great, now I have to figure out a way to apologize, even though deep down I knew I was right.

A soft tap on the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Come in."

Rose opened the door and stood in the doorway, her expression almost sheepish.

"You okay?"

I pulled in a long breath. "It's a relative statement."

"I've never seen you go off like that. What's gotten into you?"

"Weeks of pent up frustration and anger. I am sorry I took it out on you."

Rose walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. She traced patterns in the duvet to occupy her hands. Neither of us spoke.

"I like them both, you know. It's not like I am just keeping Emmett around for a booty call."

"But you are fucking him."

Rose's head snapped up, her eyes wide.

"When did you stop being such a prude?"

"About six weeks ago. Letting someone fuck you literally and emotionally will do that to you."

Rose barked out a dry laugh. "Bella, you are being a total drama queen about all this. Don't you think he deserves an opportunity to explain?"

I launched up off the bed to pace the room. "To explain what, Rose? That I remind him of a dead girl? That he looks at me and sees someone else, not Bella? Sure, yeah, I would really like to hear that. Have any salt you can pour over the wound? Maybe a little lemon juice to make it sink in a little further?"

"Stop it. If it were that simple, do you think he would constantly check in with Emmett to make sure you are okay? It's not about Maggie, it's about you, but you can't pull your head out of your own self indulgent ass long enough to see it."

I hadn't told Rose about Maggie. Emmett had the generalities, but not the name.

"How do you know about Maggie?" I forgot to be angry, choosing instead to focus solely in on knowledge that she shouldn't have in the hope that it might give me something I needed to know.

She shifted her attention back to the duvet, tracing the white stitching over and over.

"Edward caught me outside the apartment a few days ago. He was concerned about you, specifically about Mike messing with you when you were already in a 'fragile state'. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, and that Emmett was keeping Mike away."

I was too shocked to speak. I'd taken his silence as indifference. I was unprepared to hear that he continued to look on while respecting my wishes.

Did he feel responsible for making sure I didn't go off the deep end?

"I felt bad, he looked so pitiful. So I told him that Mike had gone back to Chicago. I also told him that you were hiding in your paper as a way to avoid dealing with your feelings and insecurities. I did it to make him feel bad, but he was actually happy. He asked if you were making progress. I swear Bella, if I told him that cutting his heart out and giving it to you on a platter would make you happy he probably would have done it."

I sat in stunned silence, unsure of what to say.

"I ended up getting a beer with him. He told me what happened; or at least his take on it. And he told me about Maggie. You need to hear him out, Bella. You aren't playing with all the facts."

"What if I don't want to hear him out, Rose? How would you feel if you totally opened yourself up to someone, let yourself feel things you've never experienced before, only to find out after the fact that you were the runner up?"

"And what if you weren't the runner up?"

"How could I not be? That was her picture in his flat, not mine. He wrote me a letter admitting that he was interested in me because of her. How can I build anything off of that foundation? I'm me; I'm Bella, not some dead girl."

"Why are you so freaked put about the resemblance? So what if she looked like you? She's not here to compete. It's a non issue."

"It's not a non issue, Rose. I deserve to be the one he picked. Me. It's no different than Mike; it was never about me, always about something else. You've never had to be second best, you don't know what it feels like. I do, and you know what? I deserve more than that."

She sighed and stood up. "I can't force you to do anything you don't want to. You are a big girl, even though you aren't acting like it. You are so hung up on her that you aren't listening to what he is saying. She's dead, he's not. And he wants you, not her. Although I can't figure out why."

Rose walked to the door, hesitating for a moment before turning to face me.

"Yeah, so I might be going back and forth between two guys, but they both know it. And they choose to continue with that knowledge. What about you, Bella? You are using Emmett for emotional support instead of facing _your_ issues. And you are turning Edward into the bad guy to jutify your behavior. At least with me, Emmett and Royce know where they stand. You're the one that's playing games with other peoples' lives."

She moved toward the door, pausing with her hand on the knob.

"Call me selfish, little miss perfect, whatever you choose. I can handle it. But you know what you are, Bella? You're a vampire and you don't even see it.

Rose stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

I sat back down on the bed, astounded by her parting salvo. How could she even begin to accuse me of leading Emmett or Edward on? I was the one wronged here. Emmett and I were keeping each other propped up.

I needed some air, to clear my head. The sun was setting; a walk along the Thames might do me some good.

Rose was no where to be seen when I left the apartment. I took my keys and locked up just in case.

As I walked, I processed Rose's words.

_He was concerned about you…_

_Happy that you were making progress…_

_What if you weren't the runner up?_

My emotions were at war with my mind. I wanted to believe, wanted to hope that what Rose said was true. Yet at the same time, I didn't want to go through the machinations just to be torn up again. The fear of rejection was just too much.

What was that old adage? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Love. What a laughable concept. I hardly knew Edward. Exhibit A; my resemblance to the love of his life. I had confused sexual attraction with something more, and allowed myself to get caught up in that. I didn't know enough about him to love him.

We had sex. It was amazing. It had been, cheesily enough, inspirational. In those moments after, caught up in the lifetime made for TV movie after glow, I believed his platitudes about wanting something more with me.

Platitudes. That's all it really was. Whether from Mike or from Edward, it didn't really matter. Emmett was the only one I could count on to be straight with me. With Emmett, I was never second best. He saw me and liked me for who I am.

And that was when it hit me. Emmett would be straight with me because he was my friend. He didn't want a romantic relationship or sex. There was no motivator to influence his behavior. To color his intentions.

If I had felt something physically for Emmett, would my relationship with him be the same? Would we be at odds like he and Rose were? Would he misguide me, try to make me into someone that I wasn't?

Why did it all have to be so convoluted?

I continued walking, pulling my coat a little bit tighter to close out the damp spring air. A coffee shop loomed ahead. The thought of something warm to wrap my hands around for the walk back sounded like heaven.

The shop was deserted, and I made my way to the counter to order a latte. While the barista made my drink, I waited patiently, letting the warmth thaw my cold cheeks.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't register the chime of the door as it opened.

"Bella?"

Alice Whitlock stood just inside the door, wrapped in a bright red coat.

"Fancy meeting you here. I've been meaning to ring you"

She looked around the shop, taking note of the lack of patrons.

"There are some comfy chairs over there. Let me order a drink, and then let's sit down. I have a story that I think you need to hear."


	21. Chapter 21

_There is reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 15 - Twin Flames**

Alice fidgeted with her coffee cup.

I'd not spent a great deal of time with her, yet what little I had led me to believe that she wasn't the type to ever be at a loss for words.

"I understand you saw a picture that disturbed you in Edward's flat." She didn't make eye contact, choosing instead to focus on the intricate pattern on the arm of her chair.

"Yes."

She sighed and shook her head. "I have to admit, the physical resemblance is rather startling. Hair color and freckles are the only visible difference."

"Look, Alice, I have had a really long day and I am mentally exhausted. I don't know if I have it in me to spend any more time thinking about her."

"It's not about her, Bella. It's about you and my brother. She was merely the vehicle that got you here. Now that she's caused the break down by the side of the road, it's time to understand why so that you can get on with the journey."

I chewed on the inside of my lip, waiting for Alice to proceed. The coffee cup I held gave me an excuse to keep my hands still. I knew they would shake if I moved them.

"The resemblance spooked me when I first saw you, and I was a bit worried about how Edward might react. But I saw you two together, I encouraged my brother to pursue you whole heartedly. Any idiot could see that you two were meant to be. I've observed Edward around a number of women, and I've never seen that type of energy come off him. You bring out something that no one has ever tapped into. No one, Bella."

She pulled in a long breath. "I'm rambling. For you to really understand, you need to know about a lot of things. The easiest way is to start at the beginning, with Maggie. While you might think it's all about appearances, it's actually something very different. She and her family moved to Whitby when I was little from somewhere out in the wilds of Ireland. She'd never really been around kids, and was starved for the

interaction. Her parents were apprehensive at first; they were into new age mysticism and holistic living, and preferred to keep her close to their way of life."

I'd built up a mental image in my mind of Maggie. Pleated skirts, cashmere sweaters, hair in a pony tail, the stereo typical perfect English school girl.

The picture that Alice painted was very different, and made me feel guilty for jumping to conclusions.

"We were immediately inseparable. We played make believe games, hide and go seek, all the typical things of childhood. The age difference was balanced out by her lack of normal child experiences. I loved her mother, Siobhan. She was a bit out there, but some of the things she believed in made a lot of sense to me. I think it went with the whole fairy tale existence. My mother played bridge and volunteered. Siobhan hung crystals and believed in evil spirits. It was a very different life to get caught up in."

She paused to take a breath before continuing.

"Edward always seemed to be folded into the mix with us. Mostly because he had to look out for me. He groused about it, but the other kids in the village bored him, so I think we were the better end of the deal. Maggie used to call us his naughty little secret. He'd laugh it off and say that we were too innocent to ever consider being called that, and that someone had to add some adventure to the mix. We were like that until Edward and Maggie hit their teens; inseparable, happily playing off of each other. And then, almost over night, things seemed to change. It felt as though Maggie began to shift her attentions away from me and towards Edward. I bit my tongue, but deep down I resented it. I felt like I was losing Maggie to my brother. He had everything, why should he get her too?"

Alice took a drink of her coffee. She darted a quick glance up at me to make sure that I was still listening. I fidgeted with my cup, hoping that she would get on with it. I was tired of thinking about Maggie.

"I could tell that Maggie was barmy about my brother. If I weren't his sister, I'd probably fancy him too. But it's lonely being borderline perfect. Too smart, too attractive, too witty. Edward was so good at everything that nothing fulfilled him. It made him impetuous, maybe even a bit destructive. I think that excited Maggie, and made her want him all the more. She'd bait him; try to throw him off balance to make him realize that he didn't have to be perfect. She was totally out of her comfort zone, but she could tell that her attitude intrigued Edward. I tried to let her know that she was in over her head, but she would never listen to me. In retrospect, it's hard to tell if I was being honest or simply being selfish in my fear of losing a friend."

She smiled wistfully at some unspoken memory. I let her wander down memory lane while I stewed on her baiting comment.

It hit too close to home. Only I was the baited, not the baitee.

What did it mean? Was he trying to draw me in like she had? Was I the one to be caught?

"The winter before Maggie was diagnosed I started spending more time at her house. It was my way of rebelling against my stodgy life. I loved the mystique of the way they lived, the ability to build their own rules. Siobhan recognized my curiosity, and liked to pull me into conversations that would help me see things in a different way. She believed that everything in life was a cycle. What happened in one life would happen in the next, simply evolved. I teased her, telling her that it all sounded very Lion King, but she insisted that one day I would appreciate the intricacies and patterns of life and love."

"Look, Alice, I don't understand what…"

She cut me off before I could question her more.

"I was in the kitchen with Siobhan one afternoon in January, and she asked me point blank what was going in between Edward and Maggie. I didn't really know myself, and didn't think it was the appropriate thing to discuss. She told me that Maggie was lucky to have a friend like me, that I was an 'old soul,' as was Edward. Old souls have one task, one mission in their time on earth, and that is to reunite with their twin. Everything that is undertaken, every decision, every mistake, would ultimate route them towards finding that twin. I laughed at her and told her she was going daft in her old age, rumbling on about stuff and nonsense like soul mates. But Siobhan told me that it was deeper than simply soul mates, and in time, I would understand."

I took a sip of my coffee, not so much for the warmth or the taste, but to give myself something to do. I wanted to ask questions, but knew that Alice would continue to roll right over my interruptions.

"Edward deluded himself into believing that the Maggie who pushed him, baited him, was the woman of his dreams. But that was never who she was. It was all an illusion. She was terrified that Edward would figure it out and lose interest. Realize that she was just as smitten with him as every other girl in the village. Whenever I saw them together, I couldn't help but remember what her mother said; Edward had yet to meet the one that would complete him. Maggie tried, but there are simply some things that you can't force."

"Alice, I'm not sure where you are going with this, but…" I was so tired of hearing about Edward and Maggie, Maggie and Edward. But she cut me off before I could continue.

"Edward was caught up in the dream of what he thought Maggie was. He was ready to chuck his entire future to chase a mirage. That was right around the time that Maggie found out she was sick. She'd had symptoms for years, but they had always chalked it up to the flu or any other myriad of childhood ailments. By the time she was diagnosed, the disease was so far along there wasn't very much to be done, at least not that her parents would allow. That is when she kicked him to the curb, isn't that the term you use? She couldn't be what he wanted, and she didn't want him to feel responsible to see her through an illness that she couldn't recover from. It was a selfless act; to give up on him so he could go live."

Alice had yet to make eye contact. We both stared off at vacant points, afraid to look at each other. I'm not sure what her reason was, but mine was fear. I didn't want to hear this story. I was tired of feeling insignificant and selfish when compared to her. If she was so perfect, what hope did that leave for me?

"Look, Alice, I don't believe in crystals or Stonehenge or any of that crazy alternative religion stuff."

She shook her head and laughed. "Oh I don't either. But there is credibility in some of it. The concept of a soul mate has manifested itself throughout the ages. It's in history, in literature, even in popular media. How else would you explain the circumstance under which you and Edward met? Or the coincidence of your resemblance? Everything happens for a reason, Bella, your thesis, my brother choosing to be a hematologist. Those choices brought you together."

"You are talking about fairy tales and myths, Alice. That's not real life. Mortgages, jobs, buying groceries. That's reality, not searching for the one person to complete you.'

"But don't you see that is exactly what it is? You push him, you stand up to him, you challenge him. You are his equal. You are the one he was destined for. He can't stay away from you, although he's trying for both of your sakes. The two of you can't be altered. There is a polarity to your connection that is stronger than either of your wills, stubborn as you may be."

She hardly knew me, just a few social interactions, and yet she summed up the situation perfectly. I was fighting this with every fiber of my being, and it terrified me for two reasons.

One, the fear that beyond the spark or connection, there would be nothing real there. And two, that in giving in, I would be repeating mistakes I'd vowed not to make again.

I brought my hand to my head, rubbing my forehead in confusion.

"I can't believe I am going to tell you this. I hardly even know you. But I can't stop thinking about him Alice. It scares the shit out of me. I am afraid that by giving in to what I feel, I'll lose myself."

"Or you might find yourself, Bella. Did you ever think of that?" Alice asked gently.

"I don't know, I just…I keep going back to waking up and feeling so secure in everything. And then to find that picture, it just shook me. At first it was because of her, but now it's because I feel so out of control. I want to focus on myself, to be someone that I can be proud of, but then I miss him desperately. And I become more of a miserable person. I am to the point where I am starting to hate myself."

"It's like you can't function without him. And you feel like you lose yourself, yes? And yet if you deny it, things become more miserable, and more out of control."

I stared at her, confused.

"I understand. I've been there. It's a frightening place to be. Rather like standing at the edge of a cliff and trying to make the decision of whether to jump or not."

"That's exactly what it feels like. And it scares me to no end. I keep trying to convince myself that it's just a physical attraction, but I can't keep my mind there. If I don't what does that mean for the rest of my life? I had it all mapped out…"

"Have you ever been in love Bella?"

Her question caught me off guard. Had I? I'd come to the realization that what I had with Mike might have been love, but was I ever in love?

"I'm not sure."

"You haven't. If you had, you'd know. Let me tell you a few things. Love isn't the glorious simple solution to solving life's riddles. It's messy, it hurts, it screws up all your plans, and it's wicked hard work. But when it aligns, there is nothing more glorious. And as messy and scary as the hard parts are, it is all worth it in the grand scheme of things."

Messy. That summed it up well.

"It would have been easy for both of us to pretend you are Maggie. You happen to resemble her, but it's abundantly clear that you are your own person. Part of being your own person is making your own choices. You can decide to be with or stay away from Edward, and that will have its consequences. But ultimately, Bella, it's your choice. You can't lose yourself if you are the one making the decisions. You only lose yourself when you let others make decisions for you."

Self assessment is a miserable thing. To look back, to see all the poor choices you've made, how it's caused waves and wakes for others.

Even worse to recognize that the one thing you wanted desperately to escape is exactly what you've become.

"Alice, I appreciate your perspective. I am not sure if I believe in all the new age stuff, but I am glad that you felt comfortable enough to lend some perspective." Perspective was a nice way of putting it. She called me out on some of the same things Rose had, but instead of beating me down to make her point, she coaxed me to awareness.

Sometimes the approach was key.

"Don't be so quick to disregard the connection, Bella. I didn't believe it until I met Jasper. Sure, she was an odd duck, but Siobhan got a few things right." She studied me sadly before standing to leave. "Would you like a lift home?"

Sheets of rain were falling outside, and I didn't relish the idea of walking back without an umbrella.

I followed her to her car, happily slipping inside away from the cold rain.

"Have you had a chance to go to Whitby yet?" Alice asked as she started the car and activated the seat warmers.

I had been meaning to carve out time, but I'd been so buried that I'd totally forgotten. But Alice mentioning it sparked something in me. A longing to wander through the ruins, walk along the cliffs, see where it all supposedly happened. I spoke before thinking.

"I was thinking of heading up there later this week."

Alice smiled. "Do you have something to write on? I have a dear friend who owns a lovely inn up there, and is quite the local historian. I'm sure she'd love to put you up, and would be a wonderful resource for you."

I didn't have anything, as I'd left my bag at the flat.

"I have a better idea. Why didn't I think of this earlier? Can you hand me my bag please?"

I reached behind her seat and pulled up the mammoth satchel that Alice carried.

She rummaged through it until she found a small silver cell phone. With one hand on the steering wheel, she scrolled through her contacts, and hit send. After a few moments, she broke into a smile.

"Esme Cullen, please."

She paused, waiting for the person on the other end of the line to respond.

"Esme! It's Alice!" She paused, listening to the person on the other end. "He's lovely, thank you. I was actually calling to ask you a favor for a friend that was headed up your way."

She paused again, listening. Her smile grew.

"Fabulous! That is exactly why I was calling. A friend of ours is over from the states working on her dissertation. I thought you would be perfect to show her around, give her a place to stay and all that."

Alice listened intently for a few moments. "Wonderful! Her name is Bella Swan. I'll pass on the information. Thank you, Esme. Love to Carlisle."

She flipped closed her phone and glanced over at me. "We grew up with Carlisle's family. He's a bit older than we are, but he's a great friend. He married an American a few years ago, and they bought an old estate and turned it into an Inn. They just finished some remodeling, and have no one staying this week. You are welcome to take up camp there free of charge, so long as you let Esme bend your ear. She was very excited to have a yank to yammer with."

The idea of a few days in Whitby, including a place to stay away from all of the chaos did sound like the perfect solution. A few days in the great outdoors, maybe even a bit of frivolous reading. It sounded like heaven.

"Thank you, Alice, I think that might be just what I need."

She fished in her bag to locate paper and a pen, jotting down the contact information and handing it over to me.

"You'll have a fabulous time. Esme will take great care of you, and the Inn is absolutely lovely. I am sure that you'll have a wonderful time."

"Thank you, Alice." I climbed out of the car and gently shut the door.

"Bella?" Alice called out to me from a rolled down window. "Do me a favor, Google the term 'twin flames.' The sooner, the better."

I stood at the curb to wave after her as she pulled away. Twin flames? She had to be talking about more New Age mumbo jumbo. Funny, she didn't' come off like a tree hugger at all.

I blew off her comment as my brain focused on the logistics of getting to Whitby. I could take the train, but then I would have to figure out how to get around once I was north. I could rent a car and drive up, but that could get expensive. It's too bad that Rose didn't have a car that I could borrow for the weekend.

I climbed the stairs to the flat, trying to pin down my options. How to get there, how long to stay. I was surprised when I opened the door to find Emmett and Rose sitting on the couch cross legged and facing each other. They appeared to be deep in conversation.

"Hey Bella," Emmett called out.

"Hi guys. Don't let me interrupt, I am just passing through." I was too lost in my own thoughts to feel the need to be social. Alice's observations were running round and round in my head, and I needed some quiet to think. "Just so you don't worry, I'm going north for a few days, some more research. I'll probably be back on Friday or Saturday."

"Where are you going?" Rose asked, her tone guarded. We'd gotten into it before, and it had always blown over. We both needed a few days of space to let things die down. Then we'd talk and work things through like we had in the past.

"Whitby. I need to go figure out how to get there and get around, book train tickets, things like that. I'll see you all later." I started towards my room, and pulled up short when I heard Emmett call out.

"Hey Bella, if you want, you can take my car. I never drive it, so it wouldn't be a hassle."

"You have a car, Em?"

"Yeah, I negotiated it as part of my package. Assuming you can drive a manual, you should be good to go."

A shock ran through me at the memory of the last time I 'drove' a stick shift. It was only a few months ago, but felt like a lifetime.

"Yeah, I know how to drive a stick."

"Come by in the morning before 9. I'll show you where the car is, and it's all yours."

"Are you sure Em? I don't want to get you in trouble." I felt my face growing warm. I refused to look at Rose.

He gave me a big smile. "No trouble at all. Glad it can be of use."

I didn't know whether to smile or cry. Emmett was so sweet, so helpful. I thought of Rose's words about how I treated Emmett. I would prove her wrong. He deserved better than how either of us treated him.

"You are the best guy friend a girl could ever have, Emmett. Seriously."

He grinned at me, and I could see a flash of the terrific guy I had met on the plane months ago. "It's what friends do, Bella. Come by in the morning and I'll set you up."

"Thank you. Goodnight."

Once my door was closed, I fished the paper Alice had given me out of my pocket.

_Esme Cullen_

_Dunsley Hall_

A street name and number, phone number, and email address were scrawled underneath.

From what I could recall, Whitby was about 350 miles from London. If I left in the morning, I should be there by mid afternoon.

I glanced at my watch. It was too late to call Esme Cullen to let her know that I would be driving up tomorrow. Alice had indicated that the door was open at any time. What the heck.

I pulled out a duffle bag and threw in a few days' worth of clothes. Then I printed out driving directions, shot an email thanking Esme for her for her hospitality and letting her know that I would arrive late afternoon tomorrow.

Before powering down my laptop, I Googled twin flames. While I didn't believe in a lot of what Alice said, she had made some valid points. The least I could do was listen.

A bunch of new age websites came up, and I internally cringed. As a friend of mine in college said, I like trees, but that doesn't make me a druid. I was about to close the window, when the description on one of the links caught my eyes. Twin Souls – Twin Flames.

I clicked on the link out of curiosity and read the article. Then I opened the next link. And then the next.

As much as I didn't believe in 'new age' stuff, the concept was fascinating. Very simply, the theory is that all souls derive from one central soul. The final split creates twin flames, who find each other time after time.

The whole concept was based on polarities. Yin and Yang, if you will.

One article in particular stood out to me. It referenced the need to create a strong heart through suffering, grief, pain and loss. The connection could only be once an individual has lived through pain, failure, anger, even shame.

That sure as hell fit the current situation.

And the more I dug into it I realized that Alice was right. Romeo and Juliet, Les Miserables, Wuthering Heights…there were thousands of books that referenced it in some shape or fashion. I had always thought of it as soul mates, yet based on the articles, it was a very different connection, and took into account the heartache, the loss, and even some of the antagonism. It gave me an entirely different perspective on the context of stories I thought I knew and understood.

But for all the reading I had done, I'd never stopped to think about one important factor. Part and parcel with the notion of a twin flame is an intensity that can always be felt. It can be beautiful, but it can also be tumultuous, even traumatic. The link is never one sided, and pops up when least expected.

Just like the duality of the connection, love and loss are two sides of the same coin, and you can't have one without the other.

I closed my laptop, and lay back on my bed with my eyes closed. I tried to conjure up my first interactions with Edward. At the pub with Alice and Jasper, in his car, at the club.

The reaction had been there. The connection. The need to push, to react. I provoked him just as much as he did me. If I were to believe everything I just read, those are all indications of our connection.

I thought about some of the great works of literature. The misunderstandings, the knee jerk reactions, the decisions that resulted in the wounding of another. While nowhere near as interesting, what Edward and I had gone through really wasn't significantly different.

And as I played with the notion more, I came to a more startling realization. It wasn't just Edward and I; it was Rose and Emmett too. While we might have reacted in different ways, Rose and I were ultimately both fighting the same thing.

What's the old adage? The heart wants what a heart wants?

We all had both been destructive in our own ways. But when we had burnt, it had been bright, radiant. It had been beautiful.

I picked up my cell phone, and scrolled until I found his number. I typed out a message and was about to hit send. Then I stopped. It was the cowardly way to handle this. No more.

I stared at my phone for a long time. Then took a deep breath, deleted the text, and hit the green call button. It rang five times before going to voice mail. An automated message greeted me, recited the number I had called, and prompted me to leave a message.

"Hi, Edward…it's Bella. I'm sorry I haven't called…I just…well…"

I was fumbling, trying to pull together a cohesive train of thought. I never seemed to do that very well where he was concerned.

"Listen, I am headed out of town for a few days, some research for my dissertation. I was hoping that maybe, if you weren't busy when I got back, that we could get together. I'd like to talk, and…"

I broke off, fumbling for the right words. I felt like such a bumbling idiot. What could I say to begin to rectify all this?

"Well, anyway, I'm rambling and I know I'm not making a lot of sense. I'll try calling you this weekend. I hope you are well…"

I wanted to say something more, to make him realize that I was sincere in my effort. But nothing seemed like enough.

"I miss you. And I'm sorry," I said quietly before disconnecting.

I put my phone down and turned off the light. Okay Alice, I heard you. I hope you are right.


	22. Chapter 22

_Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring_

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 16 - Walls of Green**

I left the flat before Rose came out of her room. Last night had been a whirl wind; a few days of cooling down time before our next conversation would be good for both of us.

As I walked, I quickly fired off a text message to Emmett, letting him know I'd be at his building around 8:30. I stopped to pick up cappuccino and the newspaper. He was helping me out. It was the least I could do.

At 8:30 on the dot, Emmett stood outside his building, an umbrella sheltering him from a steady drizzle. He was dressed for work; jacket, white shirt, tie. He was perfectly put together, although the dark circles under his eyes gave an edge to his All American good looks.

He gave me a halfhearted smile and a one armed hug before leading me through his building to the garage.

"Gas mileage sucks, but there is a GPS built in that can help you avoid any traffic snags."

"Thank you, Emmett. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate this." I hesitated as Rose's words about my using Emmett as a crutch flitted through my mind.

"Look, Emmett, you have been such a great friend; I want you to know how much I appreciate it. I feel like I should have done more to acknowledge it than I have."

He waved me off, "It's not any different that what you've done for me, Bella. It's what friends do."

"I don't feel like I've been a very good friend to you, Emmett." I couldn't make eye contact when I said it. I hated to think that I had let him down or taken advantage of him in any way.

He laughed and poked my shoulder. "Actually you've been the best. I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"I don't know; maybe not get involved with Rose," I teased, trying to keep the conversation light.

The smile never quite reached his eyes. "No, I think that still would have happened. You just helped me not get pulled under in her wake."

Emmett opened the door of a blue German sedan. "You sure you're okay to drive this?"

"I think that's more a question for you."

"Bella, you'll be fine. Go take some time for yourself. Getting away will be good for you."

Go take some time for myself. I'd never done that before. I had never really thought about the fact that I was always surrounded by people, at school, at home. Very rarely was I ever by myself. And here I was, taking a trip on my own, doing something just for me.

It was scary, but at the same time, it was a bit exciting.

Giving Emmet a quick hug, I climbed in the car. "That it will, Em, thanks. I'll see you later this week."

He held on to the door for a minute, as if struggling to put a thought into words. "That day at the tower? I wish that we would have pushed, tried a little harder, you know? Maybe we gave in to them a little too easily."

Emmett was facing the same thing I was, and was trying to figure it out in his own way.

I'm not sure what prompted me to do it, but I jumped out of the car and threw my arms around Emmett's neck. I wanted to let him know that I was in the same place, and that even thought we didn't push it, he would always be special to me.

He surprised me though. Instead of reciprocating my hug, he scooped me up and kissed me. Unlike the first time, there was no slow build. It was desperate and bruising and filled with need. But the desire couldn't be forced. Kind of like an airplane ticket, it was non transferable.

Maybe we were both clutching at one last hope that there was something more than just a friendship, or that there could be someone else out there for either of us. And

while the kiss was amazing, it wasn't the same. It was warm, and it felt comfortable. But the high, the intensity, wasn't there. Our connections existed with others. I had come to that realization last night. Emmett was still struggling to get there.

He prolonged the kiss, almost as if hoping to tempt fate. Trying to force something that neither of us could feel. A spark or connection to each other; knowledge that the one that we wanted desired us in return.

He set me back down on the pavement gently and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.

"I hope that someday I can prove myself wrong. Maybe if I can get her out of my head…and you do the same…"

It would have been easy to try and hide away with Emmett, to try and lose myself in a wonderful man, who if things had played out just a bit differently could have been 'the one.' But following that path wouldn't solve anything. And it wasn't worth risking a wonderful friendship.

"You and I both know it doesn't work that way, Em. I need to see through whatever I have with Edward. Assuming he still wants me. You and Rose aren't any different."

"He'd be a fool not to." His lack of acknowledgement of Rose didn't go unnoticed, but I didn't push. He didn't need that right now.

"I'm not so sure about that, Em. I've done a good job of pushing him away while trying to figure my shit out. And he might have come his own realizations too."

I stood up on tiptoe and gave Emmett a quick peck on the cheek. "Know that I love you, Em. No matter what."

With that, I climbed in the car and adjusted the seat before turning the key. As I pulled out, I glanced in the rear view mirror. Emmett stood in the garage; hands stuffed in his pants, shoulders slumped.

He looked like a broken man.

I knew the expression well. And my heart broke a little bit knowing that there was nothing I could do to make it better. But in this situation, it wasn't about me; he and Rose had to figure it out together, just like Edward and I did.

Maybe that's what they were doing when I came home last night.

I stopped at the flat long enough to grab my backpack and overnight bag, and was on the road to Whitby by 9:30. I put my iPod on shuffle and I lost myself in thought as I drove.

I couldn't get Emmett's comment out of my head. We'd both been struggling with attractions that ran counter intuitive to logic. I couldn't stop thinking about what Alice had said about not being able to control how we felt. As much as I wanted to scoff at the concept, so much of what I read made sense. The good _and_ the bad.

Great. Next thing, I'd believe in the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus.

It felt ridiculous to even consider. How do you know that you are meant to be with someone, can't exist without them, when you hardly knew them?

I didn't know Edward Masen. I had glimpses, but I didn't know how real those glimpses were. Alice insisted that he felt this same indescribable pull, but how could I ever feel confident in that? Logic wanted to make it into an infatuation, purely chemical. But that felt so trite, so trivial.

Rose had accused me of being a drama queen, of not giving Edward the opportunity to explain. While I knew that she was right in her observation, I was doing it for self preservation. Deep down I knew that if I let him explain, I'd take it at face value because I wanted so desperately to be with him. I'd take any explanation he gave willingly. Even if it wasn't the right one.

And I knew that the minute I allowed that he would have absolute power over me. And I would be lost.

I hadn't realized until I said it to Alice last night. My greatest fear was losing myself. That I would willingly give up everything to be what he needed me to be. Maybe there was something to that. I've always happily molded myself to what others wanted, never what I needed. I had no clue how to balance being myself and being with someone else.

It would be too easy to get caught up in a pity party. The old Bella would have. I would have wallowed and moaned and not done anything about it.

But the pain in Emmett's eyes this morning helped me shape my own resolve. I couldn't settle for second best. I needed things to be on the same terms. Edward was my first choice. He always would be. But I wouldn't settle for being second. We had to be equal to be whole.

Assuming he still wanted me. He told me once he wouldn't be a forgone conclusion.

He was right. And he didn't deserve to be.

When I got back to London, we would talk. I'd listen to his side of the story. I'd tell him how he made me feel. And then we would figure out what came next, if there was a next, with no more secrets or running away. Whitby would give me a chance to sort through everything and put it all to rest. No more Mike. No more regrets. No more living in the past. It was time to work on moving forward.

I pushed the thoughts away, and focused on the drive, the music, anything to help me escape for a while. I managed to relax, enjoying the time alone. I actually started singing as I navigated through the North Yorkshire moors. I don't think I'll ever see anything as beautiful again as long as I live..

Around four, I made the turn onto a long winding lane. Sandstone columns marked the entry to a large gravel courtyard. The Hall itself loomed large from the road, yellow sandstone and a profusion of green and pink fauna.

I parked the car and made my way to the front door. It flew open before I could knock or look for a bell.

"You must be Bella! I can always pick out a fellow American by the clothing!"

A lovely woman stood smiling in the doorway. She appeared to be in her mid thirties, very much the definition of 'little miss all American' with light brown hair, a button nose and a big smile. "Come on in, you have to be exhausted after that drive!"

As we made our way through the manor, I couldn't call a building this size a house, she introduced herself as Esme Cullen.

"I was so excited when Alice called and mentioned that she had an American friend who needed help. I love England, but sometimes I miss the states. It will be so nice to have you around for a few days."

While Esme didn't have quite the energy that Alice did, she made up for it in enthusiasm. She went on about the renovations they had just completed, the local points of interest, and all the things that I would want to do.

I dropped my bag and backpack in my room as Esme explained all the amenities. The four poster bed, the fireplace, the attached bathroom. The suite was quite overwhelming, and more appropriate for a honeymoon or weekend away.

The optimist in me hoped for another time, a better reason.

"Come, you must be famished. I just put out an afternoon snack in the library."

Esme continued to talk as she led me down the hallway.

"Carlisle was surprised when he heard that Alice called. He is very close to Edward, and had heard mention from him of an American working with Jasper on her dissertation about Dracula. We both would have expected the call to come from him, not from Alice."

We crossed the main hallway into a beautiful cherry paneled room filled with wing back chairs and a large leather sofa. A man with hair so fair it was almost white sat in a chair by the fireplace, book in hand.

"Alice and I bumped into each other last night. We were discussing when I was planning to visit Whitby, and she mentioned it on a whim. I was actually standing with her when she called you."

Esme took my hand and led me forward into the room. "Carlisle, Alice's American friend is here."

"Bella Swan, this is my very proper British husband, Carlisle." She said playfully. The smile on her face made it clear that she adored himi.

The man stood and turned to acknowledge me. The moment he registered my face, he lost what little color there was in his fair skin.

"It's nice to meet you," I responded, filling the silence in an attempt to be polite. "Alice mentioned that she and her brother grew up with you."

Carlisle's eyes narrowed for a moment. "You are friends with Alice?"

I nodded, not knowing how else to respond.

"And Edward too?"

I nodded again, this time not able to meet his eyes. I am sure that the furious blush gave away the fact that it was more than a passing acquaintance.

"Well, this is interesting." He walked towards table laid with decanters and bottles. "I think I could use a drink. Would you care for a scotch, Bella?"

He poured two glasses of amber liquid and returned to his chair, nodding to the one opposite him. I sat down and took the crystal tumbler.

A phone rang from another room, giving Esme the opportunity to excuse herself, claiming there were things that she needed to deal with. She promised to return in a bit.

I felt the need to address the elephant in the room so that I could maintain control of the conversation, "I'm guessing from your reaction that you notice my resemblance…"

"So you know about Maggie?" Carlisle did not look at me as he asked the question, choosing instead to stare into his glass.

"Yes." What could I say? It wouldn't be easy to elaborate on how. Simple acknowledgement was probably the best.

"I know Alice and Edward because of her. She was my cousin. Her parents moved here to be closer to my family." He hesitated, taking a drink of his Scotch. "I think it was always uncomfortable for them here."

I sat quietly, slowly sipping from the glass of scotch. I hated the taste, but I felt it only polite. Besides, it gave me a distraction while I waited for Carlisle to continue.

He paused again, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. "I was off at University and then Medical School for their teenage years. I would like to have thought I could have helped out, maybe convinced them to seek treatment. Naïve, but such are the romantic ideals of the young."

I wasn't sure that I wanted to hear this. Maggie the good, Maggie the pure. It was hard enough to look just like her, but did she have to be so perfect? It made every fault or bad decision of mine stand out all that much more.

"I got a phone call a few weeks ago. Apparently Edward is giving up tilting at windmills, and is considering going into practice. He made a comment about putting all of his knowledge to use for once, to finally start doing some good things in his life. At the time, I couldn't fathom what would make him give up on research. But now…" He trailed off. I was unsure if it was an invitation to speak, or if he needed a moment to collect his thoughts.

It was clear that he was having a difficult time with this. While I was thankful to Alice for arranging somewhere for me to stay, I couldn't put this poor man through the wringer. It was totally selfish.

"Carlisle, I very much appreciate your willingness to talk about something unpleasant. If it's uncomfortable for you to have me here, I absolutely understand. If you can recommend a few places in the village, I'll make arrangements to stay somewhere else. I was concerned about being an inconvenience, but this is obviously more than an just an inconvenience, and I don't want to cause you any pain."

He waved me off before standing to pour another glass of scotch. "It was a long time ago, Bella. Esme and I are more than happy to have you here. I think she's excited to have a fellow Yank around."

Esme re-entered the library, and they shared a brief silent exchanged that I could not interpret.

"Bella, we have something going on in the village tonight that I forgot about. Can I ask you to make yourself at home? The grounds are yours to explore, and the library is at your disposal. I do sincerely apologize." Esme was absolutely apologetic, her hands clasped in front of her in apprehension.

"Please, Esme. You have been kind enough to put me up at your inconvenience; it's no problem at all. I'll have more than plenty to keep me entertained."

I excused myself, and returned to my room. It only took me a few minutes to unpack, and I quickly found myself at odds with what to do. I didn't feel like watching TV or, surprisingly enough, reading. I glanced out the window to see that it was still light out. The flowers had just started to come out, maybe a walk around the grounds would help me unwind from my drive and kill some time. If not, I had a feeling I'd be buying Carlisle Cullen a bottle of something before I left.

I made my way down the stairs and out through the kitchen. A large English garden, replete with a boxwood maze had been visible from my room. The idea of traipsing through hedges six feet tall was like a dream come true. I half wished I had packed something other than jeans, which didn't do much to evoke the feeling of_Pride and_ _Prejudice_. Then again, I'm not very much a long dress and floppy hat sort of girl.

I picked a sprig of pink flowers of the azalea bush, and spun it around in my fingers as I entered the maze. The boxwood was a lovely, dense green, and the estate was far enough from the road to make me feel like I had dropped into another time. I followed the turns in the maze, allowing myself to roam and enjoying the sense of tranquility.

I lost track of time as I wandered through twists and turns, and was so entranced in my exploration that I was surprised to realize that the light had started to fade. I needed to

find my way out before it was too dark to see. I paused to look up for something to help me get my bearings, just as the sky opened up to dump buckets of rain.

Just perfect. What is it with this country and rain?

I started to jog, trying to find my way back through the maze, but hitting dead end after dead end. The down fall picked up, making it harder to see as I ran faster. The rain, the cold, and all the weeks of over thinking and reacting finally caught up to me, and I started to cry out of frustration.

Why had I come here? It was just a stupid book and what had it gotten me? Every dead end I hit simply reinforced the roadblocks I had thrown up for myself. I thought I would make the correct turn, only to be confronted by another wall of green.

Green. Every where I looked, taunting me. I couldn't escape.

After who knows how long of blind turns and dead ends, I finally found my way out of the maze. The lights from the kitchen cast a warm glow, and I ran for the house, desperate for shelter.

When I reached the back door, I grabbed the handle and tugged. It didn't give. I pulled harder. No luck.

Carlisle and Esme would have left by now.

I ran around to the front of the building and up the steps to the front door. I yanked hard, and it gave easily. I darted in and slammed the door behind me, leaning against it as I struggled to catch my breath.

I was cold, I was tired, and I was drenched. I was in country where my best friend wasn't speaking to me at the moment, I was borderline obsessed with a man I hardly knew, and I couldn't go home.

I didn't even have a home anymore.

I was literally and figuratively stuck, with no clue of how to get out.

"Isabella?"

I should have registered shock at anyone being here, let alone him. But I was too worn down to think anymore.

I stepped forward and threw my arms around Edward's neck. I felt him stiffen, but I was too desperate to let go.

"Please just reciprocate, if just for a minute," I pleaded. "I'm so tired of trying to be strong. I'm tired of being scared. I know I've been terrible to you and I am so incredibly sorry. I didn't want to hurt you, but I didn't want you to hurt me either."

My request was all Edward needed. His arms were immediately around me, his hand pushing my wet hair out of my face and smoothing it back.

"Shhh, you're okay." He continued to run his hand over my hair, waiting as I caught my breath.

And I didn't want to catch my breath, because I knew that when I did, he would release me and I'd be alone again. That he would leave, and all that we would ever be is a memory because of my fears.

"Isabella, you are soaking wet and you are shivering. You need to dry off and get warm."

I took that as my cue, and dropped my arms, stepping back to wipe my face.

"I'm sorry, I…"

"Go change clothes. Esme put together a tray, it's in the kitchen. I'll get it and meet you in the library." His face was unreadable. The front of his oxford was stained with wet spots.

I wiped my face with the palm of my hand, partially to clear away the water, partially to hide my embarrassment. "I'm sorry about your shirt."

"It's just a shirt. Go." He pointed up the steps.

I turned and ran up the steps to my room, where I quickly stripped out of my wet clothes and toweled off. I pulled on dry clothes and swiftly blew my hair dry in an attempt to defrost before getting dressed.

I grabbed an elastic band out of my backpack, and pulled my hair back in a knot as I descended the steps. I could see Edward through the door of the library, his arm resting on the fire place mantle. He appeared to be lost in the flames.

A tray had been placed on the table loaded down with cheese, grapes, crackers and crudités. My stomach growled at the site of food. I grabbed a grape and popped it in

my mouth on the way to the side board to survey my options. Bottles of scotch, whisky, brandy and port were neatly arrayed. I poured myself a snifter of brandy, and settled into the wing back chair I had occupied earlier.

"Would you like a blanket? I might be able to find a sweatshirt somewhere…" Edward asked quietly. I couldn't read anything in his tone. He might have asked me about the weather.

"I'm okay now. I just needed dry clothes and a towel."

Edward turned to face me. He looked tired, dark circles beneath brilliant green eyes. He had the same haunted look about him that I saw on Emmett from the review mirror this morning.

My heart, ever the traitor, flip flopped a bit at the concept of him longing after me like Emmett did for Rose. I had no right to want that, to hope, yet I couldn't help it. I had been cruel and unthinking. He deserved better than me.

"Bella, I need to talk to you. I want to explain some things, and I need you to listen to me. No running away, no shutting me out. Promise me you will listen." He paused, studying me. "If you promise to listen, then I promise to tell you things that I should have a very long time ago."

I leaned forward to grab a cracker off the tray. It bought me a bit of time to think.

Edward picked up the poker and gave the logs in the fireplace a jab, stirring up the flames. Once happy with the heat it was generating, he settled into the wing back chair across from me. His legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. His fingers drummed absently on the arm of the chair, as if trying to channel nervous energy or anxiety.

We stared at each other for a long time. The only sound in the room was the popping of the wood as it burnt. Every moment of silence scared me more, but I knew that it was his story to tell, and I had to do my part. I would sit, listen, and hope that I could understand.

Edward took a long breath before launching in, assuming my silence to be acquiescence.

"You don't ever have to ask me to reciprocate. How could I not?"


	23. Chapter 23

_No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 17 - Broken Glass**

"You don't ever have to ask me to reciprocate. How could I not?"

He said it so quietly; if I hadn't watched his lips move I might have missed that he'd spoken.

"Edward, I…"

"Please, just listen to me. I'll let you ask any question you want, call me a bastard, throw things at me, just hear me out first."

I picked up another cracker off the tray, and leaned back into the chair. With food in one hand and a drink in the other, I didn't have to worry about fidgeting or nervous energy.

"I am not a good man, Isabella. I lost my faith in humanity, in compassion a long time ago." Edward paused, taking a drink from his glass.

"When Maggie died, I threw myself into school. I was angry at her, at the world for taking her away from me, and at myself for not seeing it sooner. I was going to be a doctor, yet I couldn't see that she was sick? It was all some sort of obscene joke."

He took a long breath, staring into the fire. It gave me a chance to study him. The dark shadows didn't detract from his looks. It gave him a haunted, world weary quality. I had a momentary flash of Heathcliff wandering the moors in search for Cathy.

And I shook my head in disgust. There was a life beyond books.

"I didn't want to practice after I finished medical school. My residency, all my efforts went toward research. I convinced myself that if I worked hard enough, pushed myself, I could find a cure for the disease that killed Maggie. I knew it couldn't bring her back, but it was a way of keeping her alive."

He drained his scotch and set the glass on the table. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and wove his fingers together. I watched him steeple his fingers,

then relax, steeple, than relax, as if trying to work out tension. His eyes never left his hands. It was as if the motion were soothing to him.

"Up until recently, I had three things in my life. My work, my family, and periodically I would bring a woman home to fill the void. And I'd always end up feeling guilty for using them to make me feel whole."

I had a momentary flash of us, kissing in the rain, in his car, in his bed. I closed my eyes, torn between wanting to go back to the way I felt in those moments and the pain that other women had been there too. I wasn't naïve in thinking that he'd been with other women, but the reality of it hurt too much. I'd idealized what we had as something different, something special. Knowing that other women had tried to fill the space that I wanted to claim made the jealousy flare, and I lashed out in anger.

"Is this where I get to call you a bastard now?" I whispered angrily.

Edward looked up at me, his eye brow raised as if in curiosity. Then he shook his head and let out a wry laugh.

"I should have phrased that better. I'm not comparing you to them; I just wanted you to know where my head was at before meeting you."

He continued to flex his fingers, until finally twisting his wrists around to pop his knuckles as he leaned back in the chair.

"The first time I saw you, you were like a magnet that I couldn't escape. I was torn between getting as far away from you as possible and actively pursuing you. And I will admit, at first, all I could see was the resemblance to her. It would be a lie to tell you anything otherwise. I sent you the wild roses knowing that they would provoke you. I wanted to see if you would respond the same way she would have. But that night I found you at the club, you came out swinging. You took what I gave and turned it back around on me in spades. You were fierce and beautiful and angry. _You_. There was such fire in your reactions, like nothing I'd ever seen, and it pulled me in even further. Any chance of I had of staying away was gone the moment that idiot knocked you into me at the bar."

I closed my eyes, remembering his words outside the club.

_God help me, I want to stay away from you, vampire girl. But I can't_

"You accused me of tormenting you, of playing games. I never intended to. I assumed that I was tormenting myself, and that by staying closed off and aloof, I kept you intrigued. I needed to make you want me, pursue me. That was the only way that I could be sure that this wasn't some misguided obsession on my part."

"Wanting you was never an issue. It's safe to say we both felt the attraction from day one." I stated quietly. I had responded whole heartedly to his baiting. It had fueled me on, and in doing so I had never stopped to ask questions. I rushed in, and got burned for not insisting on more answers up front.

He stood and walked to the side board to refill his glass. "At first, you were a representation of what I had once been. I wanted you so that I could find that in myself. But the more I saw of you, the more you gave me hope of what could be. You were all I could see, all I wanted. I needed your light, your hope, your strength to feel complete. It scared me."

There was an absolute irony in his statement, and I laughed dryly. "I'm anything but strong, Edward. I jump without thinking and make knee jerk decisions."

He drained his glass and poured another. I looked down at my drink. I had finished it during the course of the conversation.

"Would you like a refill?" He must have seen me studying my empty glass. I stood and walked towards the sideboard, waiting for him to move away. Instead, he stepped closer, reaching up to push a loose strand of hair away from my face.

"You looked like a drowned rat earlier."

His hand traced down my cheek, and the instinct to respond leapt to the surface. My arms shot up to wrap around his neck as I tried to pull him in closer.

Instead of responding, Edward reached up to gently grasp my wrists, untwining them from around his neck.

"You need to hear me out, please. I don't want you to do something you'll regret because I was weak enough to give in."

I dropped my arms and stepped back as the embarrassment and humiliation rushed through me. Quickly turning to the sideboard, I refilled my glass and immediately tossed back a long drink. The liquid burned as it hit my throat and I broke out in a fit of coughing.

"Slow down. You shot tequila and horses, not brandy."

"Don't patronize me, Edward. I am a big girl, which includes owning up for things I shouldn't have done."

While I meant it in reference to my shotgunning of good brandy, it really did cover so much more.

I refilled my glass and curled back up in my chair, knees pulled to my chest as I stared into the fire. The flames danced and crackled, and I let them hypnotize me, take me away from the humiliation and desperation that knotted me up inside.

"I'm sorry." I stated quietly. "I just, well…that was inappropriate of me. Please continue."

We were both quiet for a long time, collecting our thoughts. I replayed everything that Edward said, his motivation with Maggie, when it had morphed to being about me. His admission of pushing me to make me pursue him had caught me off guard, and made me sad. How much of this could have been avoided if we'd just been honest up front? Would his honesty have directly influenced or negated my attraction to him?

"I've been reading the drafts of your paper as you leave them for Jasper."

His statement broke me out of my reverie. I stared at him in shock and confusion.

"You are reading my dissertation? What gave you the right?" I wasn't so much angry as exposed. What was in there suddenly felt very personal, as if he had been reading my journal or personal letters. The themes flashed through my mind; women holding all the power, physical and emotional vampirism, the hypocrisy of gender roles in both sexuality and life.

I had projected my feelings onto the book analysis, and in doing so, had cracked both and myself wide open without realizing it. I was laid bare on those pages for the world to see.

Letting Jasper read it was one thing, he didn't have context as to my epiphany. But Edward? It was suddenly all too personal, too real.

"I happened to see a draft lying on Jasper's desk one day. I took it without him realizing." He paused, as if waiting for me to attack. "I knew how important it was to you, and I guess it was a way for me to keep track of your progress. Needless to say, I had a bit of surprise when I started reading."

"And what great insight did it give you, Edward?" I was so turned around I didn't know which way was which.

He chuckled, but it wasn't in amusement. "Actually, it made me sad to see you so cynical. It may be egotistical, but I blame myself. You are not a cynic. I hated to see how your frustration and anger came through in your analysis."

I sighed and shook my head. I had been mad for so long, that I never realized I wouldn't have gotten there without him. He _had_ been right.

"You know what, Edward, I should thank you. You were the one who insisted that I couldn't write about _Dracula_, that I didn't have the experience. I came to a few pretty key insights after everything was said and done. Things that change the whole tone of my paper. Part of me is angry at you for that, but another part of me is grateful. I wouldn't have realized it if all this hadn't happened."

The fingers wove back together. Steeple, relax. Steeple, relax. He completed four cycles before speaking again.

"I don't know if I deserve your thanks. I wasn't honest with you about a lot of things."

Not able to handle sitting in one place, I stood and grabbed my glass off the table. The lack of food and rapid consumption of alcohol made me a little unsteady on my feet. It also gave me the courage to say what normally I would probably hold back.

He wanted me to listen; well he needed to listen too.

"Since we are both being honest and listening, I need to tell you a few things too." I looked up at the ceiling, searching the intricate patterns in the plaster for the right words. "Before you, I'd only ever had sex with one person. And up until the last year, I thought I was going to marry him. I don't just jump into bed indiscriminately, and I realize now that I was naïve to think that my expectations were the same as yours. I could have prevented this whole thing, but I decided to throw caution to the wind and have sex with a semi stranger. I could have prevented all of this from happening, and in some ways I wish I had, but in other ways, I needed it to happen."

"Isabella…"

"No, you need to hear this. I might not have handled everything the right way, but I was always honest and upfront with you. I point blank asked you who Maggie was before we ever got to your flat. You promised me that you would answer anything I asked, yet you dodged a few very important questions. I think I am justified at being hurt and confused. Yet even through all that, you are everywhere, and I can't escape from you. I tried to tune you out, but I can't. I have absolutely no control over myself when I am with you. And the only way to contain it was to force the distance to try and protect myself. I am not strong, despite what you think. I'll give in to what ever you ask of me if it means that I can be with you. And in doing so, I'm afraid that I'll try to be whatever it is that you want me to be. I don't want that, but I can't not want you either."

I started toward the sideboard to get a glass of water, but my foot caught on the edge of the rug, and I lost my balance. My hands went out in an attempt to stop my fall, and my brandy snifter went flying. It hit the hardwood, shattering on impact.

"Damn it!" Without thinking, I dropped to the floor, picking up the shards and cursing my alcohol induced clumsiness.

Edward was on his feet, moving towards me, "Stop, you are going to…"

But he was too late, and I hissed and jerked my hand back. A bright line of red immediately welled to the surface. I dropped the glass and cradled my hand, watching as the blood seeped into my palm.

Edward was at my side in a flash, a napkin dabbing at the cut. "Come with me, I need to rinse this off so that I can see how deep it is. You might need stitches."

I tried to pull back, clutching my hand close to my body. I wasn't sure if the protection I sought was physical or emotional; either way it had me frozen in place.

"If you won't move, I can carry you, which I doubt would make you happy. Now are you coming?"

His hand went under my elbow, balancing me as I straightened out of my crouch. I followed him mutely into the kitchen, my cut hand cradled inside the other so as not to drip blood on the floor.

Edward stopped at an oversized sink and turned on the water before grabbing my wrist and pulling me closer.

"This might be cold." He gently moved my hand under the water, and I yelped at the sting. Edward stepped in behind me, his arms around my body to hold my palm in both his hands. He gently moved it under the stream of water as he analyzed the cut.

"It's not deep enough to need stitches. And the alcohol on the glass will likely kill any germs. Let's get some pressure on it. Once the bleeding stops, I'll put a plaster on it, and you should be good as new."

He turned off the water and tore a paper towel from the roll next to the sink, wadding it and pressing it into my palm. Reaching for the paper towels required him to lean forward, and I felt the warmth of his body against my back. I relaxed against him, my body instinctively gravitating to what it perceived as warmth and comfort.

I leaned my head back against his chest, and closed out any thoughts, focusing instead on the thump of his heart. The rise and fall of his chest. Slow deep breaths that created an illusion of rocking.

We stood like that for a long time. Me, relishing being near Edward. Him maintaining the pressure, but never moving away.

"I think the bleeding has stopped," he observed quietly. It snapped me back to reality. Where we were, what had been said. The questions still hanging.

I tried to step away, but Edward's arms tightened around me. "Please stay."

My brain and my body were back at war. It always seemed to be that way with him. The desire to stay versus the fear of the unknown. I felt absolutely helpless to resist the pull. It was stronger than my will.

"I miss you." The words escaped involuntarily. It wasn't a lie, but it left me feeling exposed, terrified. "I miss you so much that it scares the hell out of me. But this is who I am, flaws and all. If you can't accept that, then you need to let me be."

Edward let out a sigh and tightened his arms around me.

"I wish I had something brilliant that would make you believe me when I say that it was always about you. I might have played games with you, but it was always for the best of intentions." His head dropped to my shoulder and I could feel his breath warm against my neck. "I didn't want to hurt you, and I honestly thought that I was protecting you but not being honest. I realize now how wrong I really was."

There were a million things that I wanted to say, but they all seemed to fall short.

And then it didn't matter. His lips were on my neck. One slow, gentle kiss. It took my breath away in its simplicity.

"Isabella, I …"

The sound of the door slamming startled us, and we jumped apart. We both looked up to see Esme and Carlisle in the kitchen doorway.

Esme took one look at the bloody paper towel in my hand, and her eyes went wide. "Oh Bella, are you okay?"

"I'm fine; I tripped and dropped one of your glasses. I am so sorry. Anyway, I cut myself picking up a shard. If you can point me in the direction of a broom and dust pan I can clean it up."

"Nonsense," Carlisle interjected. "We'll take care of it; you need to get a plaster on that. I don't want you getting infected."

"I already have it under control." Edward stood behind me with a box of band aids and a tube of antibiotic ointment.

He and Carlisle stared at each other intently for what seemed like an eternity, some sort of silent conversation flying between them.

I could only imagine how things might look to Carlisle, and I felt my face color in embarrassment.

Esme broke the silence. "I'll go change and get a broom. If I don't see you, have a lovely night."

She left, pulling Carlisle along with her.

I moved to follow her exit. The alcohol, the conversation had me all muddled, and I didn't want to make any more mistakes. Not now, when we were finally turning things around. "I think I am going to turn in. Can we pick up this conversation in the morning when I don't have all this brandy in me? It doesn't seem to be helping."

Edward quickly caught up to me, his hand around my wrist. "The brandy gave you enough courage to be honest. And you need to get something on that so it doesn't get infected."

He turned my hand over and removed the bloody paper towel. The bleeding had stopped, leaving a small cut at the base of the ring finger on my right hand. He squeezed a bit of the antibiotic ointment on the cut, and gently wrapped the band aid around my finger. Then he lifted my hand so that he could kiss my palm. The gesture was innocent, kind.

"Thank you for letting me take care of you."

He sounded vulnerable, so different from the man I thought I knew. I couldn't help myself; I reached up to push his hair away from his eyes. His hand darted up and caught my wrist, turning it so he could kiss my other palm. I was frozen in place, staring at the top of his head. His hair was tousled, dark red, almost black in the low light. I wanted to kiss the spot where it whorled into a cowlick, run my hands through it.

But doing that would imply a familiarity, a sense of intimacy that I wasn't sure I had the right to anymore. I couldn't presume anything that wasn't stated implicitly. That much I had learned in the last few months.

Edward straightened up, so that he could look directly into my eyes. He was so close that I could feel the warmth of his words on my face; smell the alcohol on his breath.

"It's you. It's always been you. I know that not being honest with you should make you want to believe otherwise, but it's true."

I looked away, refusing to give into the tears that were building. He said the one thing that I had desperately wanted to hear, yet I had no clue how to respond, either in words or actions.

As if sensing my confusion, Edward gently grasped my chin, forcing me to look at him. His other hand came up to wipe away the tear that escaped.

"Please don't cry. I hate this limbo that we are stuck in."

"Limbo is a good word," I whispered back.

"I think you're right. We both have a good bit of alcohol in us, and could use some rest." He leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

"May I kiss you goodnight?"

I couldn't help it, I laughed as another tear escaped. Memories of a simpler time.

"I don't know if we are ready for that, Edward."

He smiled in response. "I want to know what it feels like to have you kiss me on the lips."

He was turning my words around on me in an effort to prove that he was sincere.

"Why now?" I asked quietly.

"Because I want to remember what it feels like, Isabella. I miss the light that you spark in me."

I couldn't respond, at a loss for what to say. I searched his face, looking for a hint of subterfuge, anything that would warn me to stay me away. But all I saw was exhaustion and hope.

Drawing a deep breath, I pulled my hand free from his grasp so that I could trace the dark circle that was so much more prominent in the shadow. Edward closed his eyes in reaction.

"You look so tired."

"I didn't sleep much last night."

"Please understand that I'm afraid…" I broke off, unsure of what I needed to say.

He sighed and opened his eyes. I could see the hurt lurking, but it didn't obscure the hope that was resident there too. He turned his head and kissed the palm of my hand once more.

"You say that you are scared. I understand that. I've tried to be patient, but I refuse to be anymore. I am not going away, and I am not going to let you go. Now go get some sleep. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"We?" His statement caught me of guard, as I was still foundering with our previous conversation.

"Yes, we. You want Dracula, I'll give you Dracula. We'll go chase your monster while I prove to you that you will never be second best to a ghost. All in all it sounds like quite the tourist event, doesn't it?"

Edward stepped away from me, dropping my hands and turning towards the front of the house. He paused in the doorway, but didn't look back.

"I love you, Isabella. You may not believe it, but I do. I never told Maggie that. I never felt the need to. But I am finding there are a number of things that I need and want to do for you. And I will prove that, every single day if I have to."

I was too stunned to speak.

"Enjoy your last night without me. It ends tomorrow." He called out as he disappeared down the hallway.

The moment I couldn't see him any longer, I felt the loss. It overrode the doubt and fear I'd battled with for weeks. I couldn't resist the pull; it was stronger than anything else.

He'd told me the truth. Why he did what he did, how he felt, what he wanted. I'd been honest too. And we were still standing. There was hope after all.

Without thinking, I took off after him down the hallway. I took the steps two at a time and hit the second floor landing, immediately looking for which direction Edward might have gone. But I'd waited too long.

He wasn't there. And I didn't know what to do. I hadn't thought beyond catching up to him.

I looked up and down the hallway. All I saw were closed doors. I didn't hear anything, didn't see anyone. I was rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do next.

I closed my eyes and replayed our interaction in the kitchen. I had forgotten how alive Edward made me feel. Everything was in sharper contrast, as if simply him being there filtered my perceptions in a different way. I loved that feeling.

As long as he was honest in saying that it really was just the two of us, it was all that really mattered.

So why was I standing here in the hallway? What were my options? Either go to bed, or knock on every door until he answered. And when I found him, then what?

"Forget which one was yours?"

My eyes flew open. Edward stood in an open door directly across from my room, his hands resting on the door jam as he leaned forward into the hallway.

"I was trying to decide which door to knock on first." My face colored at the admission.

He straightened up and stepped out into the hallway, extending his arm. "I guess I made it easy for you then. Come on."

His hand was steady, palm up, waiting for me to move. I reached out, grasping his fingers as he pulled me in and shut the door.

Other than the light that came from the fireplace, the room was dim.

"Esme just lit the fire; these old rooms get a bit drafty. We can sit there." He pointed towards the wing back chairs that flanked the fireplace.

The room was almost identical to mine. A four poster bed, comfortable chairs for reading, a small fireplace. There was an arrangement of wild roses in a small vase on the mantle.

"One of the benefits of being friends with the proprietors?" I asked, inclining my head towards the flowers.

"No, I brought them for you. A peace offering if you will."

I stepped forward so that I could run my finger along the petals. "Did you take the thorns off this time? The first ones you sent me made me bleed."

"What is the old saying? We always hurt the ones we love?"

I dropped my hand to rest on the mantle. "You don't know me well enough to love me."

"My sister likes to remind me that sometimes we spend more time questioning than accepting. This is one of those things that you need to accept, Isabella. I gave up trying to understand or rationalize it a while ago."

Edward was right. There really was no explaining what existed between us. It just was.

I felt his arm slip around my waist, his hand flattening against my stomach. He didn't pull me back against him, instead stepping close enough to drop his head to rest on my shoulder.

"I've thought about us for a long time. I questioned what odd twist of fate brought you into my life. You knocked everything off tracks, made me want to take my entire life in a different direction. That's when I realized that the world I had crafted for myself was not a life, but a prison. It is time to give it up. I can't do that without you to lead me."

A knot formed in my chest. He was exposing himself, being honest in his hopes.

"I am not much of a leader, Edward. I get lost a lot."

"But at least you try. I was hoping that you could teach me."

"We'd probably antagonize each other to death."

I felt his head shake against my shoulder. It took me a moment to realize that it was laughter.

"That we do. Some might consider it intellectual foreplay."

"Who says you will ever get into my pants again?" My god that sounded so bitchy. I always managed to say exactly what I was thinking around him, with no filter.

The pressure against my stomach increased, pulling me closer into him. I could feel his breath, hot in my hair.

"I wouldn't be so crude as to presume anything of the nature. But you are proving my point in spades. We seem to bring out something in each other that no one else can."

"You make it sound like it's a mutual thing." I was sparring, delaying, trying to get my balance. It was absolutely mutual. There was no way I could ever deny that.

The pressure on my stomach increased a bit more. I was flush up against him now, and his other arm slipped around my shoulders to secure my in place. He held me firmly in place, as if anticipating that I would try and escape. But there was no where else that I wanted to be.

"Is it not a mutual thing? Are you done with me? Can you turn away so easily?"

Edward dropped his head, burying his face in my hair. "I can tell you how infuriating you are when you argue with me. And how absolutely stunning you are when you believe in or want something. How fascinating it is to watch your mind work. I love that you push me, challenge me. You don't back down like so many other people do. You make me want to explore, to know more, to question. _No one else_ has ever done that to me. Only you."

A small shiver when through me as the hand that was on my shoulder moved towards my neck, flattening out just below my collarbone.

"I can tell you that my heart is beating as fast as yours. Don't deny it, because I can feel it. You can argue all you want, but you can't deny this."

His voice had grown huskier, and I could feel his lips move just behind my ear.

"Are you going to insist that it's not mutual? That you don't want me? Because you aren't pulling away from me, Isabella. You can't forget that afternoon anymore than I can. You feel the connection just as much as I do."

Edward's hand moved across my body, stopping at the base of my neck. It slowly slipped up my neck until he reached my chin, where he applied just enough pressure to force me to shift my head towards him.

"I think I'd like to kiss you on the lips, Isabella. I'd like to believe we are both ready for it this time."

Before I could respond to Edward, his lips were on mine. So much like the zoo, it started out hesitant. One gentle, feather light kiss that was over entirely too soon.

And when he kissed me again, there was no longer hesitation from either of us. His hand dropped back to my shoulder, and turned me around to face him without ever breaking contact. As soon as I had finished my rotation, he had one hand cradling my face, the other grasping at the hair at the nape of my neck. It prevented me from moving away as his kisses grew more insistent.

I kept expecting my fight or flight instinct to kick in, but I responded in full, losing myself in it all. I let him own me, manipulate me as he kissed me, sucked on my lip, stroked my face. His actions mimicking his words. He wanted me to believe; to acknowledge that I would respond to him, that I did still want him.

That I needed him. Not just physically, but totally.

And in the course of his assault on my indignation, l let my walls down and allowed myself to believe. I kissed him back, mirroring his intensity, letting him lead, but always matching, never ceding. This wasn't about domination, of one disproving the other. It was about equality, about balance.

About honesty.

When I wrapped my arms up around his back and squeezed my fingers into his skin, I felt him smile.

He pulled back, never losing the self satisfied smirk that had infuriated and called to me since the first time I saw him. "I told you that it wasn't one sided."

He dropped his arms and stepped away, forcing me off balance in the process. I shot my hand out to catch the arm of the chair so as not to land face first.

"What the fuck, Edward?"

He laughed; his face alight with amusement. "You are so very beautiful when you are angry."

I stared at him, infuriated and confused.

"You proved my point. You want me as much as I want you. And you infuriate me as much as I do you. There is absolutely no question about how mutual this is. Now go to bed. I'd like to leave by nine tomorrow morning."

"What the hell is your game, Edward? Wind me up and watch me go?"

He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. His face inches from mine. He stared at my mouth, but didn't move to close the space.

"Wind you up, yes. You can try and deny it all you want, but actions speak louder than words, and I heard yours loud and clear. As for 'winding you up and watching you go,' I'm actually trying to prove that I am a worthy of your trust. If I didn't care about that, I wouldn't have stopped and you wouldn't be standing."

My heart was beating so hard I felt like I could hear it. Anger and desire and panic all mixed together and confused with his proximity.

Edward's smile grew a bit as he watched me stew. He reached over my shoulder without looking away.

"I brought these for you. Good night, Isabella."

He placed the small vase of roses and a book in my hand and stepped away.

I was too flustered to speak. I was torn between storming out of the room and throwing myself at him. I knew that the latter would be rejected, regardless of how

much we both wanted it. I moved quickly for the door, trying to channel every bit of sexual frustration into my irritation of him in that moment.

"Stop fucking with my head, Edward."

"I'm not fucking with your head, Isabella. I'm being honest. I promised that I would. It doesn't mean that I don't like to see you all wound up. I happen to adore every minute of it."

I slammed the door behind me, shutting out his infuriating chuckle.

God, it was going to be a long night.


	24. Chapter 24

_Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are, that some people see things that others cannot? But there are things old and new which must not be contemplated by men's eyes, because they know, or think they know, some things which other men have told them_

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 19 - Ghosts, Demons and Monsters**

The moment I was back in my room, I set down the vase and flipped on the light to study the book Edward had given me.

It was a hard back copy of _Rebecca_. A piece of paper jutted out from the binding. I tipped open the book, and it fell open to the marked page, as if it had been held open long enough to dent the spine.

I'd recognize the handwriting on the paper anywhere.

_I didn't realize how much it fit until I re-read it. Please look with an open mind and believe. If not my words, then hers._

_Edward_

Sitting cross legged on the bed, I flattened the book in front of me. He'd marked the beginning of Chapter 20, where Maxim confesses his real feelings about Rebecca to the Second Mrs. DeWinter. Two passages had been highlighted in yellow on the opening page:

_If your hand is taken from you you don't know, for a few minutes, that your hand is gone. You go on feeling the fingers. You stretch and beat them on the air, one by one and all the time there is nothing there, no hand, no fingers._

_At the moment I am nothing, I have no heart, and no mind, and senses._

I flipped the page, reading only the highlighted sections:

"_You don't love me," he said, "That's why you did not feel anything. I know. I_ _understand. It's come too late for you, hasn't it?"_

'_No," I said._

"_This ought to have happened four months ago," he said. "I should have known._ _Women are not like men."_

"_I want you to kiss me again," I said, "please Maxim."_

I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of that passage. We'd said such similar things, albeit innocently. I flipped the page, looking for more highlighted sections, wondering what other parallels he might have called out.

"_How could I come to you when you were thinking about Rebecca?"_

"_Whenever you touched me I thought you were comparing me to Rebecca," I said._ _"Whenever you spoke to me or looked at me, walked with me in the garden, sat down to dinner, I felt you were saying to yourself, 'This I did with Rebecca, and this and this.'"_

"_You despise me, don't you? You can't understand my shame, and loathing, and_ _disgust."_

Reading the highlights, knowing what had passed between us, I had to laugh. It was as if the names were changed to protect the innocent.

Although innocent was a relative term.

I closed the book and placed it on the night stand. Normally I would have read more, analyzed the content, tried to understand more if Edward's intent. But this was my life, not a book. I needed to stop treating it that way.

In the dark, the room was oddly quiet. No sounds of a house settling, water running, people talking. That, combined with the soft, cold sheets reinforced the fact that I was in fact alone. Only one body would generate warmth in this bed tonight. I curled up on my side and hugged one of the down pillows to my chest, a weak attempt at inferring comfort or companionship.

Instead of providing a sense of security, it simply emphasized the fact that I was by myself when I very much didn't want to be.

The easy assumption would be sexual frustration; that my desire to run back across the hallway and finish what Edward had started drove my inability to relax into sleep. But it was more than that. I wanted him here, with me. And it wasn't for sex or comfort or fear of being alone.

I wanted to feel the weight of his body against my back as he curled around me. To have him talk to me, tell me stories about his childhood, about what he'd been like when he was little. Nothing of consequence, but everything of importance.

After an hour of tossing and turning I threw off the covers and quietly opened my door. The house was silent. There was no light from under Edward's door.

Was he lying there in the dark, unable to sleep too? Or was he happily wrapped up in his bed, dreaming of who knew what?

I slipped down the stairs and made my way towards the library. Earlier I had noticed a section of newer books, where I hoped to find a mindless best seller that could lull me into sleep. I moved ahead quietly, so lost in my own thoughts, I didn't realize someone else was in the room until I had already cleared the threshold.

Not wanting to disturb him, I tried to retreat quietly, but the squeak of a floor board gave away my presence.

Carlisle glanced up, and motioned me into the room. "Please, Bella, come join me."

Not wanting to be rude, I sat down in the chair I had occupied early in the day. His smile was welcoming, and if I didn't know any better, I would have thought he was expecting me.

"I'm really sorry about breaking your glass." It was an inane statement, yet I was at a loss as to how to initiate the conversation I'd like to have.

He laughed and shook his head. "Really, it's not an issue. You don't want to know how many we go through in a year. Alcohol brings out the clumsiness in people."

Something had been eating away at the back of my mind since our conversation earlier. I fidgeted with my t-shirt as I tried to figure out how to broach the subject. This might be my only chance to ask, but I wasn't sure how to proceed.

"Carlisle, do you mind if I ask you something? About Maggie?"

His expression didn't change in the least. He could have just been asked to predict who would win Wimbledon this year.

"I thought you might want to talk about her at some point. What would you like to know?"

There was no easy way to ask what I wanted to know. Better simply to ask than second guess myself continuously. "Did her parents not do anything to help her? I mean, when they found out she was sick?'

The comments about her upbringing and how quickly she died after her diagnosis had always bothered me. Not that I was the walking font of knowledge on leukemia, but there were plenty of people who had lived through it. I couldn't understand how in this day and age, someone could be diagnosed and die so quickly after. It just didn't make sense.

"Uncle Liam was a bit extreme in his views, and believed that life was to be lived based on the hand you were dealt. That meant no medicine, no vaccinations, and no physical changes like braces or glasses. Making that decision as an informed adult is one thing. But to bring a child up under those beliefs is a very different issue altogether."

He took a long breath, as if collecting his thoughts. "Maggie was a very sweet, loving girl. She was very beautiful in her own way, as are you. But she never developed the thick skin necessary to survive the slings and arrows of childhood. She had a fragile, almost ethereal way about her, and never truly adjusted to life here. People are cruel by nature, but children can be inhuman, especially to those they deem different."

It reminded me of something Edward had said in his letter. _I was her Lancelot._ I had always interpreted the statement in a romantic context. Had he meant it to be simpler? That he had been her protector, her champion?

"She was quite the mess after Edward left for University. I think deep down she knew it wasn't meant to be. They would have grown apart as they got older, they were just too different. When she found out when she was sick, it was easier to push him away than know that he gave up everything to try and help her out of duty. She was too proud to allow that. She wanted his love, not his pity."

"Carlisle, you make it sound like she gave up and died?" I was shocked. I couldn't imagine not fighting. There was too much to experience in life.

"In a manner of speaking, she did. Maggie didn't have the courage or the will that we do. She simply didn't know any other way. Fighting the disease would have meant fighting her parents, who meant the world to her. It would have meant going against what she was raised to believe. If I told you that you had to go against something you believed with every fiber of your being to live, would you?"

To me, the answer was easy; of course I would. But then again, I wasn't Maggie. I never would be, and I finally realized that I didn't want to be.

I had spent so much time hating her, resenting her existence, that I was unprepared for the pity, no, the empathy that I felt for Maggie at the moment. I struggled to reconcile the mental demon I had conjured in my mind with the sheltered little girl who never stood a chance in life. I'd spent so much time resenting Maggie, building her up as a my enemy that I never taken the time to consider that she was just as flawed, if not more so than I was.

Carlisle's voice broke me away from my thoughts.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

His smile was gentle. He stood and moved towards the library door.

"I'm turning in, Bella. Is there anything that you'll need?"

Instead of answering, I stood to follow Carlisle out of the room while turning his comments over in my mind.

We parted at the steps. Apparently Carlisle and Esme's rooms were in a separate wing of the house. I impulsively threw my arms around his neck and hugged him hard. Carlisle seemed to be a bit thrown by the contact, but after a moment of awkwardness, returned my hug in kind.

"I'm glad you are here, Bella."

"Me too, Carlisle. Thank you."

I found my way back to my room and climbed into bed.

While the bed was just as cold as it was before, I slipped easily into sleep easily. The alcohol and emotional exhaustion took the edge off restless nights and over thinking. Instead of waking multiple times, I got the first good nights rest in weeks.

That is until the sun came streaming into my eastern facing room, bringing with it the dull throb that comes from too much alcohol consumption. I rolled over and smashed the pillow to my face, incapable of getting up to close the drapes.

Too damn bright.

My head hurt, my eyes were dry, and my mouth felt like I had brushed my teeth in weeks. My body cried for water, but my head insisted that I not move. Unfortunately a knock at the door negated that option.

"Unless you are God, the President, or my mother intent on making my life hell, you had better go away," I called into the pillow as I heard the door swing open and footsteps cross the room.

"What a lovely way to great the person who brings you relief."

I pulled the pillow away from my eyes. Edward stood at the foot of my bed holding a tray.

The dark shadows were gone, and with it, all traces of the haunted man who confronted and infuriated me last night. The smirk, the polish, the devil may care attitude were back in full force.

Pushing up off the pillow, I caught the scent of something heavenly. It erased all irritation at him being here so early in the morning, put together and seemingly unaffected by last night.

"Please tell me you have something revoltingly unhealthy on that tray that is swimming in butter or gravy." I scraped my hair off my neck and struggled free of the covers to sit cross legged on the bed.

"First, this." Edward handed me a glass of orange juice and small blue tablets.

"Heathen. Ibuprofen in hang over application is always chased by alcohol."

"Old wives tale. I'm a doctor, I know better." He pushed my arm a bit. "Drink."

I popped the pills into my mouth and took a tentative sip of orange juice. Edward nudged my arm, pushing me to drink more.

"Stop it or I might up chuck on you," I mumbled as I took another tentative sip. "Your bedside manner sucks."

"Such lovely words for the man who brings you breakfast in bed," he shot back.

I placed the glass back on the tray, and slowly moved to the edge of the bed.

"God, I feel like something died in my mouth." The floor was cold under my feet, and I held onto the end table as I stood hesitantly. "Promise me that you'll never let me drink brandy ever again. Please."

"You know, there are things worse in life than a brandy hangover; like scotch and cigar." Edward's smile was wicked, almost conspiratorial. "I couldn't sleep, and snuck outside after raiding Carlisle's stash. A dead skunk in your mouth tastes better. Now eat, it did wonders for me."

I must have turned green; he spun me around and pushed me in the direction of the bathroom.

The walk did me a world of good. So did a good brushing of the teeth and cold water on my face.

When I returned, I found Edward lounging on the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His long legs stretched out with ankles crossed in front of him, a few pillows propped up behind his head. With the paper in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other he looked like an advertisement in a travel magazine. A gorgeous man in faded jeans and a snug polo shirt relaxing on a slept in bed in a beautiful room. It sure would have gotten my attention.

He looked up to see me frozen in the bathroom door. That infuriating smirk slipped into place.

"Come on, Isabella. I don't bite...I only nibble a bit."

He patted the bed next to him, never losing that arrogant smile. I could see sausage and toast on the tray next to him, calling to me. Grease wins over pride any day. Especially when a hangover is involved.

I climbed back into bed and grabbed a link of the plate. The minute the sausage hit my mouth I closed my eyes and sighed in contentment. Iron and caffeine. Just what the doctor ordered.

"I take it you approve?"

The food had been my sole focus, and I gave Edward a sheepish smile of gratitude while holding one finger in the air to request a second to chew.

"Sorry, that was rude. I do feel more human." I took a quick sip of coffee before continuing. "No one has ever brought me breakfast in bed before. Thank you."

"You know, I should question your taste in men, but that might lump me in with blokes I'd rather not know about. Now finish your breakfast and get a move on. We have places to go."

I had totally forgotten about our 'expedition.' I wonder if we'd go straight to the Abbey, or check some of the other spots first. There was the church and the library and…

"Look at you, lit up like a child on Christmas Eve." Edward moved the tray to the bedside table, and then leaned in towards me. "You'll see first hand all the places you've read about. And I can promise you that while I am intent on proving that you can trust me, don't confuse my actions today with anything platonic or chivalrous. My thoughts about you are no where near that civil or contained."

He raised his hand to skim just underneath my jaw. "Expect to be touched a lot today. I've missed it too much to not take advantage of your proximity."

My mouth literally fell open as Edward stood to leave the room. "Forty Five minutes, Isabella."

Not even an hour into the day and he had me totally off balance already. I could feel the irritation building.

Every instinct was to lash out, and I was scrambling for a smart alec comment, when it hit me. He was doing exactly what he'd always done. I had thought it was pushing my buttons, baiting me. But I was wrong.

He wasn't trying to change me or goad me, and his actions weren't malicious.

He was flirting with me.

Granted, he had a weird way of doing it, but that's what it had been all along. I was the one who had twisted it around into something slightly malevolent or dark in intention. He was simply getting a rise out of me, because I did it to him in turn.

Dropping back on the bed, I pulled a pillow over my face to muffle a scream. It was going to be a ridiculously long day.

After taking a nice cold shower to cool me off and wake me up, I flew through my typical morning ministrations. Blow drying my hair, putting on a tiny bit of makeup, throwing on clothes. One quick look in the mirror made me smile. I might not have paid attention to what I packed, but it's better to be lucky than good, because I had actually thrown things into my bag that could give as good as I got.

At 9 am on the nose, I ran down the stairs to find Edward waiting for me in the foyer. His eyes raked down me quickly, and I pulled in a quick gasp of breath as he flashed that wicked grin. Anticipation hummed through me, and I was half terrified, half giddy at the prospect of a full day together.

He held up my coat, "You'll need this. It gets windy on the hill."

I turned and slipped my arms into the sleeves and shrugged it in place. As soon as the jacket was on, Edward slipped his hand under my hair, pulling it free from the inside of my coat. His thumb ghosting underneath the edge of my sweater as he did, trailing up of the back of my neck before pulling away. The entire gesture was a combination of sweet and provocative at the same time, and I shivered in reaction.

"Are you ready for our ghost and monster extravaganza?" He asked innocently.

I turned around to see him smiling at me, a real smile. No smirk, no sarcasm. Just honestly happy. It made the knot of anticipation tighten a bit. That smile was for me.

"Do I need to pack a cross and some garlic for protection?" I teased, struggling to reign in my reaction. He was trying to prove a point, I needed to respect that.

"All depends on what you need to be protected from." Edward stepped closer, our bodies almost touching. I tried to bite back a smile, but it was no use.

"Why, are you offering your services?"

We were frozen place, grinning like two idiots. I hadn't realized how much I had missed the banter, the laughter, the teasing. I felt so alive.

"You will be the death of me yet, won't you Isabella?" His words were serious, but the smile never faded.

"Would you have it any other way?"

Edward slipped his hand in mine and tugged me towards the door. He didn't answer my question. I didn't expect him to.

Our drive into town was quiet, but not awkward. It gave me an opportunity to regroup, collect myself. It was hard enough to control my thoughts around him, let alone in this car. I couldn't help but think of the last time we were here together. Edward reached

Deconstructing Dracula

**Page**

Hmonster4

**198**

over and grabbed my hand, placing it on the stick shift. I immediately looked at the window so that he couldn't see my face color at the memory.

I had forgotten how good it felt to step out of safe and predictable, to let myself go and let life happen. I couldn't look at Edward in the driver's seat and not remember every moment of it. He squeezed my hand as he downshifted.

Apparently I wasn't the only one lost in a memory.

We parked close to the water, and Edward was around to my side of the car, door open before I could let myself out. He offered me his hand to steady myself as I climbed out of the car. Once I was standing, he turned my hand over and leaned down to kiss the cut on my hand.

He pulled me forward, leading me through the narrow winding streets, pointing out the local sights. The giant whale bone arch, the Dracula museum.

"Come on, we'll explore the harbor first. Then we can have lunch and take the steps."

The steps. The church and the Abbey ruins. It felt absolutely surreal to be in the place I had all but obsessed over for the past few years. All the things I had read about, visualized, were finally becoming a reality, not something I had to paint with my imagination.

Yet it all faded to the background. My dream paled in comparison; it seemed to be happening a lot these days.

Edward graciously spent the morning playing tour guide. He provided a running commentary on the part of Whitby I didn't know. The whaling industry at the turn of the century, the light houses, the local personalities. It gave me a chance to see a different side of him. He was lighter. He laughed as he told me silly stories. He greeted people he knew with a wave or hello.

It was like seeing another side to him, another facet. I didn't know this Edward who guided me around puddles while laughing at how I said pasta. I was hit with another flash of our day at the zoo. The memories of him laughing, teasing, and cracking jokes. How long would it be before things like this became mundane, expected? Would he ever stop surprising me?

Edward was good to his promise. Every possible chance he was touching me. His hand at the small of my back. An arm around my shoulders. Holding my hand.

Deconstructing Dracula

**Page**

Hmonster4

**199**

Nothing inappropriate, but constant contact. Every touch was innocent, yet held the inference of something more, and kept me on edge in the best way possible.

Anticipation of what came next. A kiss, a statement, a declaration. I didn't know when or what it would be, but I was confident that at some point it would come, which made the anticipation all that much more enjoyable.

The skies opened up close to noon and sent us running for cover. We sprinted through the streets, dodging people in a quest for shelter. Edward stopped short, opening a door as I crashed into the back of him and bounced of with a grunt. He grabbed my hand and pulled me inside a dark pub.

"You would think, as much as I keep getting caught in the rain, I'd permanently attach an umbrella to my wrist!" I laughed as I shook water out of my hair.

"What, are you used to somewhere that has sunshine and warm weather? Such a Yank." Edward teased as he led me through the dark room. "We can wait it out here. Come on, a little hair of the dog and some more grease should do the trick."

He pulled a chair out for me. "I thought you weren't going to be chivalrous today."

"Actions don't belie thoughts, Isabella." He leaned in closer, and my breath caught. He was so close, and it would be so easy to lean in and kiss him. I'd wanted to desperately since we left this house this morning, but I hadn't worked up the courage. "But if you'd like me to…"

"Edward?"

A man's voice broke our little corner of quiet. Edward's eyes narrowed in irritation as he glared up at the speaker.

"Hello, Ben."

A dark haired man that appeared to be around Edward's age stood a few feet from the table, pint in hand. He smiled as if he'd spotted a long lost friend.

"I didn't realize you were back! How long are you back this time? I thought your parents were on holiday?"

Edward's tone was cool and abrupt, indicating his irritation at the interruption. "Just up visiting Carlisle and Esme. If you'll excuse us…"

But Ben was not put off, and stepped forward, oblivious to the dismissal. "Why are you being such a wank, I haven't seen you in ages. Come on, introduce me to your…."

A look of shock registered on his face. His eyes flickered back and forth between Edward and me, as if searching for an explanation, before quickly backing away.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. I'll leave you two be."

Edward muttered something under his breath about idiots as he rubbed his forehead in irritation.

"What was that all about?"

He stood, not meeting my eyes. "Give me a minute, I am going to take care of something and order lunch."

Edward moved away quickly away from the table after the retreating figure.

I replayed the scene in my head. The greeting; Edward's brusqueness, Ben's reaction.

And it all clicked into place. Ben's reaction wasn't to Edward; it was to me. I was stupid not to even consider it. If they were the same age, they probably grew up together. Which meant that he more than likely knew Maggie.

I can't begin to imagine what we looked like to an outsider.

Maggie dropped back down over me, like a ghost I couldn't escape. Would it always be like this? Would I ever get free of her or of others' memories of her?

I sat at the table, lost in my own ruminations. I wasn't sure how long it was before Edward returned to our table holding two pints.

Gone was the relaxed, happy man from earlier. No smile, no easy laugh. I sat quietly, allowing him time to collect his thoughts. How could I have been so naïve? Of course things would be strange here, of all places. I should have known better than to allow him to do this. It wasn't fair to either of us.

"Edward, I…"

But he cut me off before I could continue.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't really, well…" It was strange to hear him fumble for words.

"No, I'm the one that should be sorry. I never stopped to think about how people might react to us, or at least what they see of me. It was selfish, and I should have known better. We can leave; it's okay."

He ran his hand through his hair in irritation. "No, it's not okay. We are going to go about our day just like I'd intended. Some small minded village idiot isn't going to ruin this for us."

We sat quietly, drinking and waiting for our food. There was something I felt like I needed to say; to get out on the table so to speak, and now seemed to be as good a time as any.

"I'm always going to live in her shadow, aren't I? In some way, there will always be three of us in this relationship. Even if one is a ghost."

I didn't have the courage to say it more than a whisper. Maybe it was fear of the answer. More likely, my resignation to the fact that this might end everything before it ever started.

Edward laughed quietly, but there was no joy in the sound. He reached up to push a strand of hair away from my eyes.

"No, Isabella. The only way that would happen is if you let it. I don't care what others see or think. I know what you are to me."

"What am I, Edward?"

He'd made his declaration, but I needed to know more. I wanted to understand.

"I don't know if I have that totally figured out yet. But I like what I have figured out so far." He hesitated, smiling, "I know that you are smart and stubborn and incredibly attractive. You talk funny. You don't believe in yourself anywhere near as much as you should. You manage to occupy my every waking moment, even when you shouldn't. And I can't help but feel optimistic that you used the words us and relationship."

I didn't meet his gaze, choosing instead to trace the wood grain patterns in the table to mask the impact of his words. He was holding true to his promise, proving to me that this was real.

The bar maid stepped in before he could say anything more, depositing fish and chips in front of us. We both focused on demolishing the food, not re-engaging in conversation. There were so many things that hung, unspoken between us. Things that I wanted to say, but simply didn't know how to put it into words.

By the time we'd finished eating, the rain had stopped. The skies were still dark, as if threatening to open up again.

"Do you want to drive up? That way if it starts raining…"

"No. I've dreamed about this for too long. Come on."

I grabbed his hand and started forward, but Edward followed. I looked back over my shoulder, and registered a look on his face I'd never seen before.

It looked like…sadness.

"Edward?"

Hearing his name seemed to shake him out of whatever thought he was in. He stepped forward, leading me up the street.

"Since we are being honest, may I ask you something as well?"

"Sure."

Edward walked beside me, quiet for a long time, as if framing out his thoughts.

"What happens when you finish your dissertation?"

"I have to defend it."

"That's not what I meant, Isabella. What happens? Will you stay in the states? Will you come back to London?"

He was asking me the one question that I couldn't answer. Not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't know.

"I'm honestly not sure. I've been so focused on getting my doctorate that I kind of lost sight of what comes after that."

"You've spent so much time chasing the monster, you never stopped to think what happened once you caught him."

There were so many ways to interpret his statement. _Dracula_, my dissertation, Edward, my own fears, my future. They all fit in some manner or form.

"Something like that."

We climbed the steps in silence. And for once, I could not have cared less that I was in the heart of Whitby, just steps from the Abbey. Because all of a sudden it all seemed so unimportant.

"Come on, the graveyard is over here."

We wandered through the stones, studying the inscriptions. He was silent as I read the messages on the different markers. The humpty dumpty grave; Tom Thumb, the little boy who fell off the harbor wall.

While I tried to focus on his stories, I couldn't help but realize that everywhere we turned we were hit in the face by his past or my future, neither of which would make our relationship easy. If only there was a way that we could lock ourselves in the moment; it would only be us, with nothing else flitting around the edges.

Ghosts, monsters, demons. Call then what you will. I just wanted them all to go away.

The wind began to pick up as we cleared the crest of the hill. The Abbey stood out, empty and foreboding against the dark sky. I ran ahead of Edward, stopping to stare up at the crumbling ruin. The wall was cool to the touch, and I stood quietly, eyes closed as I tried to conjure a mental image of what it might have been like centuries ago. Of the monster that Stoker had written about. But all I could see were three children running and laughing in the summer sun.

A gust of wind tore in off the water. The ancient stones provided little protection from the wind as it whipped in off the ocean.

I dropped my hand and pulled my coat closer, an attempt to shelter myself. Against what, I was unsure. The sadness of the ruins? The legend that had been spun from these ancient walls? Maybe it was the man next to me, whose mere presence challenged everything.

"There are no ghosts here, Isabella. No monsters. No answers." Edward called from behind me. "Chunks of limestone and old stories. Are you happy now? Did you find what you were looking for?"

I didn't know how to answer.

How had my life spun so radically out of control?

I came to London to finish my dissertation, to start the next stage of my life. But finishing it required me to go back to Chicago. Which meant that what I felt, what I wanted wouldn't work.

And that was when it came crashing down on me. I did love him. I was just so busy second guessing and doubting myself that it got lost. I knew what I wanted, what I needed.

I stood at a fork in the road. I had to choose. Indecision was no longer an option. It was unfair to everyone. Especially to me.

"Isabella…Stop questioning, love. Just live."

Just live. It really was that simple. Don't give up, don't settle, don't run away. Live.

I wanted to live. And I needed to start right now.

"I need to go back. Please take me back."

There weren't answers here. They'd been inside me all along. I'd been too busy fighting everything to realize that.

I dropped my hand from the stone, and turned to face Edward. The wind whipped my hair around my face and stung my eyes. I tossed my head in an effort to clear my vision.

"You're right. There are no ghosts. And the monsters are just made up stories. You are real, and you're here. And I am a fool for being afraid. I can't promise to know what happens next. I am sorry for everything I put you through, and my refusal to listen."

I took a long breath and stepped closer to Edward. "I want to go back to the way we were before everything else came crashing in. Before Mike showed up, before I saw the picture of Maggie. Back to when it was just the two of us and nothing else mattered."

I reached out to place my hand on his chest, directly over his heart, and stood up on tip toe. His head was bowed to keep the wind out of his eyes, and it closed the distance enough that I could kiss him gently. I needed to be the one to make the effort. I was the one that had pushed him away, and needed to be the one to make it right.

"Will you take me back?"

A low rumble of thunder in the distance broke the silence that hung between us. I stood quitely, waiting for him to respond, waiting for him to say something, anything.

Edward pushed my hair back away from my face, his hand lingering at the back of my head. "Why would I have to take you back, Isabella? I never let you go.


	25. Chapter 25

**Gchat/Gmail Transcript 3**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: You can't keep this up_

It's obvious that you are avoiding me. I just came from the status meeting. WTF is up with having Garrett give updates? He doesn't know the project half as well as you do.

This isn't you, Emmett. Don't flame out your career because you want to avoid me.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Rose Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: You can't keep this up_

Sorry to burst your bubble Rose, but everything in the world isn't about you. I had another meeting that I needed to be at. Garrett was more than able to cover.

And yes, I will admit it - I am avoiding you. I made it _abundantly_ clear how I felt the other night. If you choose to disregard that, it's your call. I'm not going to sit by and watch any more. I deserve better.

As for my career, I am not 'flaming it out,' I am trying to mentor a colleague. Not everything everyone does in life is for personal gain or benefit you know.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Rose Hale_

_From: Royce King_

_Subject: Dinner_

Have to go to dinner tonight with friends of my parents, could use you to shore up the conversation. What time am I picking you up?

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

Chat Transcript: Wednesday 4:28 pm RHale: Why are you doing this? EMC: Doing what

RHale: Why won't you talk to me?

EMC: I said all I had to say the other night RHale: So that's it? Pick you or nothing?

EMC: You know how I feel and where I stand, no more taking advantage of that. RHale: I'm not taking advantage of you

EMC: The hell you aren't. I've asked you on dates. Tried to be something more than your booty call. Tired of it

RHale: That's rich. You were a willing participant if I recall EMC: Were. Past tense. I'm an all or nothing type of guy RHale: You aren't being fair

EMC: No, you aren't being fair. I told you no more jerking me around, and you keep at it

RHale: I'm not jerking you around. I miss you EMC: But you are still seeing him, aren't you? RHale: Why does it matter?

EMC: If you have to ask, then I am wasting my breath RHale: Emmett, don't be like this

EMC: No Rose. I'm done. If you dump him call me. Until then no more

RHale: But I'll still see you when you hang out with Bella - it's not like we won't see each other

EMC: I'll see my friend, that doesn't mean that I'll be at the apartment - I'm not going to sit and

wait for you

RHale: You're being ridiculous. You can't avoid me forever

EMC: Just watch me

_EMC Signed off a 4:52 pm_

RHale: Please don't be this way – I can't lose you. But I can't tell you either, because you might not be any different from the others. Then where would I be? Typing chat messages to myself and wishing Bella were here to give me answers. When did I become so pathetic?

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Alistair Buckley_

_Subject: Breakfast_

Emmett –

I was hoping to catch you at status today. Would you have time to meet me for breakfast one morning this week? I'd like to talk to you about extending your tenure with this project indefinitely. The core team is doing a spectacular job, and we realize that we can't lose you, Ms. Hale or Mr. Garrett before everything is complete. I know that might cause some concerns with your parent company, but I refuse to risk this project.

Think on it, and let my assistant know a day and time that works for you. We can discuss the renegotiation of your package, as well as some additional perks that might interest you.

Look forward to the discussion.

Alistair

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Mom_

_From: Em_

_Subject: Hi_

Things are looking up here. Not in the way I expected, but this is great opportunity, and I am really getting some major exposure. I banked on this being a career maker, and I was right.

They've approached me about staying on here longer than originally planned. Wanted to let you and Dad know that I am thinking long and hard about saying yes. I'll fill in more details as I get them. I know that you'd rather have me be back in the States, but this is where I need to be right now.

I miss you guys. Hope to see you soon.

Love

Em

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Peter Austin_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Tickets_

Hey Man -

It's looking like I'll be staying here longer than I thought. Job's too good to pass up, and there are some other things that I need to see through. Odds are I won't be around to use my Titans season tickets – do you want them? Let me know – I'll have everything sent your way.

I know this will sound like something out of left field, but how did you know that Charlotte was the one? I've got myself in a bit of a fix here, and I don't know what to do.

EMC

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: Email from Alistair_

Did you get an email asking you to stay?

Will you?

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Rose Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty Subject: Re: Email from Alistair_

I'm not sure yet. I'll meet him for breakfast and hear him out. You?

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: Re: Email from Alistair_

I will if you will

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Rose Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Email from Alistair_

That's not fair Rose. Whatever decision I make will be based on the opportunity, not on you.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Royce King_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: Re:Dinner_

Have too much work to do tonight. Can you come by before you go though? I need to talk to you.

**-I-I-I-I-I**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Rose Hale_

_Subject: Re: Email from Alistair_

Will you stay if I tell you that I told Royce that I need to talk to him tonight? That I'm telling him that it's over?

Please, Emmett. I don't know what you want me to say, but I can't let it be this way. I screwed up, and I want to fix things between us. I want there to be an us.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Rose Hale_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Email from Alistair_

You have your conversation with Royce, and call me after to verify that you saw it through. If you do end it (I know when you lie to me), I'll come over tomorrow and we will _talk_. That is all. You have 24 hours to figure your shit out. This is your last chance. I refuse to go through the ringer for you anymore.

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Peter Austin_

_Subject: Re: Tickets_

Hell yes I want them! I don't care if it's not the Cowboys, I'll suck it up.

On the Charlotte thing – I just knew. Doesn't mean it was easy, but there wasn't any other option, it just had to be.

WTF is happening over there? I hear about a hot brunette on the plane, then a wild and crazy hook up with a knockout blonde at work. What have you gotten yourself into? Chicks don't pull you under, they chase you! I mean come on, you had them eating out of your hand in Memphis! What happened to you over there?

Women throughout the state of Tennessee will be mourning if you are off the market, you know…although, I could sell your contact list from your iPhone and make thousands…

Pete

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Peter Austin_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Tickets_

Just forwarded you the email with ticket information. Have fun and give Charlotte a hug for me.

As for what I'm doing – either making the smartest or dumbest move of my life. Thinking with my dick was so much easier. This emotional shit sucks. Hell, sell the iphone contact list, I may need the money for therapy.

EMC


	26. Chapter 26

_I could feel the hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer, nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the super sensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in languorous ecstasy and waited, waited with beating heart_

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 20 - Nothing Left to Hide**

We half walked, half ran back to the harbor, hand in hand. The thunder continued its ominous rumbling, warning us that the rain wouldn't be far behind.

We made it to the car just as a loud crack of thunder erupted overhead, and I yelped in surprise. Edward laughed happily, shaking his head as he deactivated the alarm and opened the door for me.

Once inside, I leaned forward as a bolt of lightening streak horizontally across the sky. It all seemed so perfect, so keeping with the atmosphere. It was beautiful and wild and unpredictable and absolutely exhilarating.

"I love the way you observe things. It's like you are a child seeing something for the first time."

Edward sat back in his seat, one arm propped against the door, watching me. I smiled and shifted my gaze back out the window.

"It _is_ all new. And it's amazing."

"It's just a bolt of lightening," he teased, skeptical of my awe.

"It's a beautiful bolt of lightening across a menacing sky, and it makes me think of at least five classic works of British literature. Quit being such a cynic and let me indulge my inner romantic here."

I folded my arms and rested them on the dashboard, supporting my chin as I watched the storm roll in across the water. The clouds were dark grey with tinges of green, and would light up periodically as a jagged edge of light ripped through them. It was violent yet beautiful in its simple elegance.

"While you might find the storm beautiful, I've had to watch and resist the temptation that is you all day. I am far too impatient to tolerate your wonder any longer. I promise I'll bring you back here again."

I angled my head so that my cheek could rest on my arm. It allowed me to see Edward's face and the small smile that played across his lips. He wasn't toying with me; he was being honest. I couldn't help but smile at him.

Promise. A chance to try again.

He fired up the engine as I leaned back in my seat. He shifted into reverse, and looked over his shoulder preparing to back out. Before I could register, he popped the car and neutral and leaned towards me.

Edward's face was inches from mine, and my breath caught at what might come next. His arm shot over my shoulder as he smiled.

"You didn't fasten your lap belt."

He pulled the strap across my body, snapping the clip into place. That irritating smirk in place the entire time. I was flustered at his proximity, and he knew it.

"That's better. Wouldn't want anything to happen when we are just getting started again, would we now Isabella?"

Starting again reminded me of something that had nagged at my subconscious all day. I'd wanted to ask a few times, but had been struggling with the proper context in which to bring it up.

"Edward, can I ask you a question?"

"I believe you just did, but somehow, I don't think that's the one you meant."

I shook my head and sighed in mock exasperation. Was he like this with everyone or just me?

"When you tried to stop me outside my flat you called me Bella. Why did you stop?"

Edward's eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead, a muscle working in his jaw. I held my breath, waiting, not sure how to interpret his lack of response.

"Do you really not know?" He asked quietly, never looking away from the road.

I searched my memory, trying to pull back the events of the day. It was all such a jumbled mess, and I couldn't separate who said what from my own chaotic thoughts.

"No."

"What did you say to me when I called you Bella?'"

"I don't know?" I was confused, not understanding where he was going with his line of questioning.

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. There was no joy in the sound.

"You told me I didn't have the right to call you Bella. And truth be told, you were right. It wasn't appropriate for me to call you Bella after the way I toyed with you, even though it's how I think of you; after that day you always will be. I guess I've merely been respecting your request."

I'd never stop to consider that the decision to resume calling me Isabella had anything to do with what I wanted. I'd just assumed it was his decision. Never again would I begin to assume where he and I were concerned.

"If I told you it was okay, that you could call me Bella, would you?"

Edward turned onto the road that led to Dunsley Hall. The muscle in his jaw working again. I couldn't tell if he was caught up in thought, angry, or something else. There was so much still to learn about him.

"I don't know, Isabella. Maybe you'll just have to take a chance and find out."

He pulled into the gravel courtyard; I had my seat belt unbuckled and was leaning across the console before he stopped the car. I kissed his cheek innocently, trying not to laugh as he broke into a smile again. Simplicity in the smallest things.

"I think it's okay if you want to call me Bella," I whispered against his cheek. "Although I have to admit, I kind of like the way it sounds when you say Isabella. It's something special that only belongs to you."

He turned his head to catch my lips, his hands slipping up to cradle my face as he kissed me quickly. I tried to extend it, but Edward pulled away, a devilish grin on his face as he ran his thumb along my lower lip. "Think you can be quiet? Let's see if we can sneak in without getting caught. I have other things on my mind than having a long drawn out conversation with Esme right now."

We left the car as quietly as we could and made our way towards the front door. Edward slipped in as I pulled off my shoes and followed. He quietly latched the door, and peeked out into the entry hall to check for people. Once we were sure the coast was clear, we took off in a run towards the stairs.

I giggled as I slipped on a step, but Edward caught my elbow to stabilize me. His other hand flew to my mouth to muffle any sounds. Instinctively, I made a face of apology before righting myself and following him up the steps. Another quick glance up and down the corridor guaranteed that the coast was clear to sneak down the second floor hallway.

"Come with me," Edward whispered as he opened his door and pulled me inside.

He closed the door behind him, and Edward turned to face me. I stood in the center of his room, unnerved by the sudden realization that we were back to the point we had left off at weeks ago. It was time to repair the final bit of damage so that we could move ahead, but I was unsure how best to proceed.

Whether it was apparent in my stance, or my lack of motion, Edward picked up on my trepidation and didn't approach me. Instead he sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows as if us being here together was the most natural thing in the world.

"I can see the wheels turning. What is running through that fantastic imagination of yours?" He asked quietly, his eyes never leaving my face.

Glancing around, I tried to take everything in.

It was just a room. There was nothing personal here.

Nothing to be afraid of.

He sat up and held his hand out to me.

"Come here."

When I didn't move, he repeated his request, understanding my hesitation. "Come to me, Isabella. There is nothing here that can hurt you."

I couldn't move. As much as I wanted to move ahead, I had to make sure that everything was on the table before we went any further.

"Are you sure about that, Edward? Is there anything else…" I let my words trail off, unsure of what or how to ask.

"Is there anything else what? Anything else that you need to know about me?" His words were cold, caustic, and I immediately regretted speaking my mind.

He pushed up off the bed and took a step towards me. The motion was graceful, almost feline, and absolutely predatory. I shivered a bit at the thought.

"Let's make this easy, shall we?" He reached around and pulled something out of his back pocket, and held it out to me. "My wallet. I believe you'll find my ID, credit cards, money, a photo of my sister, and a piece of paper with important dates. Rather mundane, is it not?"

He waited for me to take it. When I didn't he tossed the wallet on the table.

"Very well then, let's continue. If you look in my bag, you'll find clothes, my laptop and a journal. If you dig in the side pocket of the bag, you'll find a pack of gum and condoms. Any questions?"

My eyes went wide at his last statement, and I shook my head vigorously without thinking. He laughed at my reaction.

"Don't begin to think I considered you a sure thing. I like to consider myself an optimist and to be prepared for any eventuality, despite outward appearances."

He stepped back away from me to reach over his shoulder and grasp the neck of his polo shirt. Holding my gaze, he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it onto the bed.

"I got this once I finished medical school. A reminder of the power and commitment of what I was about to undertake." Edward angled his body so that I could see his left shoulder.

I reached up to trace the intertwined serpents on the caduceus. So many little things I'd missed completely or misunderstood. This being one of them. It made me wish that I could go back and change so much.

"I said it once, and I will say it again. There will be no foregone conclusions on either of our parts. If you touch me again, you can't run away. If you do it again, I won't stand by and wait a second time. I trust you not to repeat your mistakes. You need to trust that I won't repeat mine either."

I ran my finger across the outline of the serpent again, trying to imagine a younger Edward, idealistic in the new life he was about to begin.

His right hand was out in a flash, grabbing hold of my wrist before I could finish tracing the outline of the tattoo.

"I mean it, Bella. Do not touch me again unless you plan on staying."

The ferocity of his expression, the tone of his voice cut me to the quick. He was just as scared as I was. But he had faith in me. He was trusting that I wouldn't run away again.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, hating the knowledge of what I'd done.

I closed the distance between us as quickly as I could, slipping my arm around his waist and leaned my forehead against his back. He didn't pull away, but I could feel the tension in his stance.

Pushing up on tiptoe, I kissed the center of the caduceus. "I'm sorry. Neither of us were right in how we handled things, but we can't take them back either."

I pressed another kiss against his shoulder. "I won't run away. I promise. This is the only place that I want to be."

I shifted to lay my cheek against Edward's back. His heart was a steady staccato against my cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere." It was quiet, but I knew Edward heard me.

His hand slipped over the top of mine, fingers twining together. Lifting his free arm, he pulled me under and around in front of him. The arm that had been raised dropped to my shoulders, securing me in place.

I couldn't run. Nor did I want to.

We stood face to face; all pretenses and defenses stripped away. No more walls to hide behind. What had he said? No more ghosts, no more demons? It was true. For the first time since we met, we were truly alone.

"You can look in my wallet if you want," I started, looking directly into his eyes. "I lied on my ID. I weigh more than I told the DMV. The folded up news clipping is of my dad receiving some rotary club award a few years ago. He hates it, but I think it nails him perfectly."

My thoughts were in chaos, but I plowed ahead, not stopping for fear of losing my courage. "I am not totally sure what I packed. I just threw stuff in. Odds are I have mismatched socks and things that don't fit anymore. I wasn't quite thinking when I made my plan to come up here. But I can tell you, I don't have any gum or condoms, so I guess it's a good thing that one of us is prepared for any eventuality."

"Like bad breath?" Edward smiled as he ran the back of his hand along my jaw.

I wasn't tall enough to kiss Edward without him leaning over, even on tiptoes. So I pressed a single kiss against his chest, and then turned to rest my ear against his heart.

"It's beating fast," I observed, closing my eyes and focusing on the steady thumping.

"You tend to have that effect."

He slipped his hands into my hair, and tugged gently, forcing me to lean back so that he could kiss my forehead. My eyes. My left cheek and then my right. He had me locked in place, but I didn't try to escape. I didn't want to.

"I don't have any tattoos." There wasn't a need for me to continue, but I felt like I should say more. "I kind of have a phobia about needles. I did get a henna one once and looked like an idiot."

Edward laughed softly. His face was inches from mine, but it might as well have been miles. I had physically gone as far as I could. The next move would have to be his.

For all that we had been through, the honesty, the declarations; there was an awkwardness to our physical interactions. We were still learning.

"You are killing me. You've been killing me all day. Could you please kiss me? I can't take much more of this, and I can't reach you," I asked, feeling the warmth rush to my face. It felt strange to ask for something so blatantly.

"Is that all you want?" His eyes never left my face.

"We need to start somewhere, right?" My arms tightened around his waist, pulling him as close to me as I could. "Can you meet me halfway?"

Edward smiled and slowly dropped his head down towards me. He stopped just short of my lips, his eyes still holding mine.

"I'm not going to stop this time," he stated softly before pressing his lips gently to mine.

The day of teasing, of innocent touches and emotional declarations had worn me down, and my ability to resist was gone. I attacked, forcing his kiss to evolve as I opened my mouth and breathed him in. I couldn't move fast enough, push far enough. And Edward met me with the same force, his tongue darting into my mouth, teasing, then withdrawing. I wanted more, but I let Edward lead me where he wanted to go. I didn't have to establish our equality, it was already there. I understood. More importantly, I trusted that he wanted the same things that I did.

Yet no matter how much I opened myself up, had faith in the progress we made, I was unable to prepare myself for the physical intensity of what Edward made me feel. It erased all logic, any fear or hesitancy. I couldn't get enough of him kissing me, touching me, the infuriating way he would chuckle when I'd grab on to him to prevent him from pulling away or stopping.

Our first time, our only time together, had been about magnetism, the call of something that couldn't be explained. I had been so unsure of myself, of who I was, and how Edward fit into the equation, that I'd been afraid to act. I understood now that his questions, his constant querying of what I wanted had nothing to do with his own insecurities and fears, and everything to do with his understanding of mine.

He'd understood how far out of the comfort zone I had moved due to the force of this indescribable magnetism. Every question, every request that day had been about me. He'd done everything he could to make sure that I was comfortable, that I knew how much I was wanted.

The realization stung. Yet another thing that I'd missed; another sign of how real we were.

We are.

"What are you smiling about?" Edward whispered against my neck.

"I had a eureka moment."

"Are you going to share?"

"No, but I might show." I pushed gently on his chest, forcing him backwards. He sat back on the bed, pulling me along with him. I gracelessly fell over onto the mattress, laughing at the childish nature of it all.

"I like the way it sounds when you laugh." He shifted so that he could lie next to me on the bed. "I feel like we've been here before."

"In a way we have, but things are a bit different now."

"Really?" Edward propped his head up on his hand so that he could look down out me. "Such as?"

"If I recall, I was the one half naked last time, and we'd already had one go in the car."

He laughed as his hand slid up my stomach to gently squeeze my breast. "Ah yes, and If I recall correctly, when you were in the car you were fully clothed and not complaining."

"I might complain now."

"Why is that?"

How do I articulate things that I had a hard time understanding myself?

"Sit up." My demand caught Edward by surprise, and he frowned before rolling onto his back and moving to sit cross legged.

Not giving myself time to second guess, I climbed into his lap, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. One eyebrow went up in surprise, but he didn't speak.

"I might complain now because I've wasted too much time. It might not be the smartest thing, and it might be rushing, but I don't want to wait for when the time might be right. I can't seem to articulate what I feel right now, but I think I can show you, and I want you to know, if you are willing."

I held my breath, waiting for him to respond. Each passing second of silence felt like an hour. Would he turn me away again? Tell me it was too soon? Was I rushing this?

And then all fear was erased. I felt Edward's hand slide up under my sweater, his fingers slowly trailing along my back. The contact sent chills down my spine, and I bit my lip to keep any sound from escaping. His hand continued its path until he reached my bra. Without breaking eye contact, he easily popped it open and slid one finger slowly underneath the loosened band around to the front of my body.

"Only if I can show you too," he whispered before kissing me again. His hand continued its path, pushing my bra up out of the way, palming my breast and slowly kneading and stroking.

"You never seem to be at a loss for words, why do you need to show?" I asked as I tried to slow my breath. My words came out choppy, as if I had just finished sprinting up the stairs.

"Because I can't find the right words around you." Edward squeezed again before moving his thumb in slow tantalizing circles. "I could tell you that I want to make love with you, but that falls short. I'd like to shag you senseless, but that leaves things out too. I could come up with a million different ways to tell you that I want you, and none of them would even come close to explaining how it is that I feel around you, or even worse, don't feel when you aren't with me."

His words alone were enough to make my breath catch. But when combined with the way that he was touching me and the intensity of his gaze, there was no way that I could turn back.

I didn't know what loomed ahead, but I was certain that the only way I could face it was with Edward. That alone was enough certainty to propel me forward.

Pulling my arms back, I reached for the hem of my sweater, tugging it over my head. Once it was clear, I tossed it and my bra on the floor.

"What happened to the nervous little girl who was scared of her own shadow?" Edward asked with an amused expression on his face.

"She grew up."

"Hmm…" Edward hummed as he pulled me into him. "I'm curious to learn more."

And learn we did. We explored, touched, and kissed as we peeled away clothing, all while discovering what actions might cause the most significant reactions. I pushed all of my insecurities to the back of my mind, and gave into the moment.

In doing so, I slowly came to realize the power I held. The confidence of knowing that we were at the same place emotionally, along with my own personal evolution, allowed me to view things through a different filter, to realize that I could provoke just as much as respond. That my insecurities had made me view everything as one sided, when it was anything but.

The hiss of reaction when I raked my nails down his back, or a whispered 'fuck, Isabella' when I innocently sucked on the pad of his thumb reinforced how out of whack my perspective had been; how much I had missed.

The fact that I could tempt him like he had me so many times made me curious, made me want to push. I was drunk on my new found power, and I wanted to see what else I could do.

Every reaction, a gasp of breath, hearing my name, or arms tightening around me fed my confidence. I became bolder in my exploration, not waiting for encouragement to touch or kiss. And as my hesitation fell away, Edward pushed me more, teasing me, trying to draw me further out.

It was the most exquisite manner of torture, and I was torn between staying in this moment forever and begging for him to put me out of my misery.

"You are playing with fire, you realize that don't you?" I gasped as he blew a puff of cold air across my abdomen.

"I like fire, so I guess I should keep playing." He ran his tongue along my hip bone, and then puffed out another little gust of air on the path he had just licked, raising gooseflesh and causing me to shudder.

He just laughed.

"You want fire…" I broke off, not capable to form the rest of the sentence as he nipped at my hip bone.

"Yes, I do." To reinforce his words, Edward shifted his body, effectively forcing my legs further apart. His free hand tracing up the outside of my thigh. "Although you aren't in much of a position to be dishing anything out now, are you?"

I threw my arm out, pointing in the direction of the closet with a groan of resignation. "I can't handle this. Front pocket…_now_."

Edward chuckled and rested his chin on my hip, the slight stubble from his beard chaffing against the sensitive skin. "Want some chewing gum?"

"Fuck you, Edward."

"That sounds like a demand I might enjoy. Or should I make you say please first, Isabella?"

The blood flooded my face. I hadn't meant for the jab to sound like it had come out. Edward knew that though, and laughed at my mortification as he lazily climbed off the bed and went to retrieve his bag.

I lay back, eyes closed as I tried to collect myself before he came back. The bed shifted, and I rolled on to my side so that I could meet him as he crawled back in bed.

"No questions this time, Edward." It was a statement for both of us. No doubts or fears for me. No need to make sure everything was okay for him.

"I swore to myself that if we got back here, I'd do everything right." He laced his fingers with mine and turned my hand to kiss the inside of my wrist. "I love you. I don't ever want you to doubt that."

"I don't." I felt like I should be the one to initiate this, to set the tone for everything going forward. I didn't trust words. They were all too easily misconstrued. Actions spoke louder.

"Tell me if I do this wrong, okay? I've never, well..." I let my words trail off as I took the foil packet from his hand and tore it open, trying not to be self conscious as I fumbled with the condom.

Edward sucked in a long breath as I stumbled along, feeling awkward and clumsy and incredibly stupid.

"My god, who would think that your innocence could be so damn sexy?" He rasped against my neck. It sent a small thrill through me. "I might be afraid of you when you realize how much power you have over me."

I took a long breath slipped my leg up over his hip. "I'm not innocent."

"You absolutely are, and you're mine to corrupt. I like that idea immensely." Edward pulled me in closer, rolling onto his back and pulling me on top of him.

We were both frozen in place. My heart felt like it was going to burst right out of my chest.

"Look at me," Edward whispered, his hands finding my face and gently forcing my chin up. "Don't look away from me, Isabella."

He dropped his hands from my face, placing them on my hips as he pulled us together. My breath caught, unnerved by how absolutely visceral everything felt. I couldn't look away if I tried.

Just like our first time, the connection was as much emotional as it was physical. But there was less desperation in our motions this time. Neither of us was willing to let this end.

Edward pushed me back, forcing me to sit up, following so that he could pull me in against his chest as we established a slow, tantalizing rhythm. I locked my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as we moved together.

"God you feel good…" Edward whispered, never looking away. "I'm not going to…"

I kept my arms locked around his shoulders, constantly matching his pace. His arms tightened around me, and he dropped his head to my shoulder, which muffled his voice as he gasped out my name. That same surge of power, knowing that I was the one that pushed him, that it was my name that he called out in release, was enough to push me over too. Gently pulling at his hair, I managed to clear enough space to kiss him, his tongue slipping in my mouth as I quickly followed his lead. It left us both winded and shaky.

Edward moved to kiss my forehead, while pulling me closer into his chest. We sat that way for a long time, not moving or speaking.

I was amazed by the power of something so simple. What we just did was no different than any other couple, age after age. Millions had taken the same path before us. For release, for love, for procreation, for money. A million and one reasons existed to justify the act.

But words are cheap. Better to leave them behind and trust what we felt, be it corporeal, intellectual, or emotional. We'd lain to rest the ghosts of lives past, and could finally live in the moment, as we legitimately deserved.

More importantly, we had learned from our mistakes, and were now the wiser for it. We curled up together; limbs entwined, sheets wrapped around us as we talked. I told Edward about my paper, what I had left to do before going to Chicago to defend it. I told him about my friend Angela, who I would stay with while back in the states. I told him about Emmett and Rose, and the fight Rose and I had before I ran into Alice.

"Emmett is a good man. He deserves to be happy. I hate what Rose has done to him. But I love her; she's my best friend."

"He knows what he's doing, Bella. You can't protect him." Edward rubbed slow circles in my lower back, loosening up my muscles. "He is a good man. He kept me sane, even when I deserved to be told to sod off."

"What do you mean?"

"He came to see me not too long after everything happened. He wanted to understand what went on so that he could help you. At first I wanted to resent him for being there when I wasn't, but I was so desperate to find out how you were that I swallowed my pride and trusted him."

I thought back to Rose's admission the night of our fight. "And you spoke to Rose too."

I could feel Edward's chest shake as he laughed. "Yes, that was rather an experience. She cares for you a lot. I've never had a woman scare me before meeting her. But then she took pity on me, and made me realize that I was going to have to push you or you would fade back into yourself. She's actually the one who convinced me to pursue you, not to let you slip away."

I cuddled in closer to his chest, taking in the enormity of his statement.

"I have to leave early in the morning. I don't want to, but there's something important that I have to do. When will you come back to London?"

The trip had been so impromptu; I hadn't considered how long I would stay. Suddenly, the allure of London was greater than anything that Whitby could offer.

"Originally, I thought I'd explore for a few days, but I do need to get back to work, and I should probably talk to Rose."

Edward shifted underneath me so that were eye to eye.

"Come home tomorrow. I don't want to go more than a few hours without seeing you."

"We are going to have to figure out a balance, you know. I still need to work, and so do you." I hated to think practically, but I wanted to do this right, to give us somewhere to work from.

"We will, I promise. But let's enjoy the rest of the time we have left here." He pulled me back against him, running his nose up my neck. "I want to enjoy you over and over and over again. May I do that, Bella?"

A bit later, Edward slipped downstairs and grabbed some food. I'm not sure what he told Esme, but he wasn't gone long.

We ate, we continued to talk, and we exhausted the stash in the front pocket of his bag. It was the perfect day. And when we finally decided to give in to sleep, I lay in bed listening to his steady breathing. We'd managed to sort through things, and find a way to build a foundation. He still provoked me, infuriated me, but it was part and parcel to what we were.

I closed my eyes as I replayed the day. The best part of it had been when made love for the first time. It wasn't the sex, it was at the end, when he called me Bella.

I nuzzled my head into his chest and whispered "I love you, Edward."

He was asleep, and wouldn't register my words, but there was time for that.


	27. Chapter 27

_We shall have an open mind, and not let a little bit of truth check the rush of a big truth, like a small rock does a railway truck. We get the small truth first. Good! We keep him, and we value him; but all the same we must not let him think himself all the truth in the universe._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 21 - Titles and Identities**

I'd woken up around 10 am to find myself alone. I knew that Edward had to be back in London for a meeting by noon, but a feeling of sadness settled in over me. So much to make up for, and yet so little time.

I showered, dressed, and went downstairs to meet Esme for an early lunch. She peppered me with questions about yesterday's excursion, what I thought of Whitby, the ruins, a million and one questions designed to draw me out. But in answering, I invariably drifted back to my time with Edward, and would find myself lost in thoughts that I didn't want to share.

"Earth to Bella," Esme called. "You are a million miles away. If I didn't know better, I'd think your brain and or your heart left in a black Aston Martin this morning."

I smiled and looked down at my glass. "Am I really that transparent?"

"Only a little. I also remember how that whole 'young love' thing feels." Esme paused as she took a sip of her iced tea. "I never thought I'd see Edward like this though. I've only known him for a few years, but he's never been one to exude happiness. I saw him briefly before he left this morning. The conversation was very invasion of the body snatchers. I expect Alice to laugh, not him."

I had to smile at her statement. There were so many different facets to Edward, almost like there was a different flavor for each one of us.

She pushed back from the table. "Would you like some more tea?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you." I ran my finger around the rim of my glass, trying to collect my thoughts.

"Go back to London, Bella. I can tell that you are only half here. Whatever happened between when you showed up here and now is a good thing. Go with it."

I glanced up to see her smiling at me, an expression of understanding on her face. "Go home, Bella. I think he might be waiting for you."

Home. That little nudge was all it took. I gave Esme a quick kiss on the cheek and bolted up the steps to my room. I tossed everything in my bag as quickly as I could, and then slipped across the hall for one last look around.

My first observation on our suites had been that they better suited for a honeymoon or a weekend away, and had hoped to someday make it real.

I took in the fireplace, the flowers on the mantle, and the rumpled bed sheets. I got my wish faster than I expected.

I grabbed the vase and made my way back downstairs.

Carlisle and Esme waited for me by the door, his arm draped around her shoulders. There was such a natural chemistry to them; it was apparent that they loved each other very much. I couldn't help but wonder if Edward and I could have a relationship like theirs some day.

Over the course of the last two days I'd come to realize that I wanted that very much.

Dropping my bag to the floor, I reached out to grasp Esme's hand. "Thank you for everything. I came here to make the book that has been my life for years real, but I ended up with so much more. I can't tell you how grateful I am for everything."

Carlisle smiled as Esme stepped forward to give me a quick hug. "You'll always have a place here, Bella. And I do hope you'll send me a copy of your dissertation when it's done. It would be a wonderful addition to the local folk lore section of the library."

I laughed and hugged her back. "I'll make sure you get a copy. It's probably not the most scintillating reading, but it's the least I can do."

They stood in the doorway, watching as I made my way to the car. I tossed my bag in the trunk, and opened the driver's side door, giving them one final wave before climbing in. A folded piece of paper caught my eye as I tried to stabilize the vase in the passenger seat. My name was written across the front in bold script, and a sprig of purple azalea peaked out from the crease. The stem of the azalea was ragged, as if torn off a bush.

And I couldn't help but smile. I wonder if Edward had ever bought a flower in his life. He appeared to have zero compunction with raiding other peoples' gardens. It suited him though; heaven forbid he ever do anything the normal way.

I let the car warm up while I unfolded the note. My hands shook a little bit, not from anxiety, but from anticipation.

_Bella;_

_I didn't want to wake you, lord knows that you need your rest, and I have to get back to London. I will be home later this evening and I __will__ call you._

_You started talking in your sleep around four. Something about daffodils and salad dressing. I wish I could crawl inside your head and understand what you were dreaming about. Was it as simple as a salad with flowers? Or was there some deeper, hidden meaning in your words?_

_I find myself analyzing everything about you. What you do, what you say. And then in the midst of dissecting something profound about you, I find myself distracted by the way you run your hand through your hair, or how you twist the ring on your index finger. I can't seem to separate the need to know and understand everything about you with the need to touch you or feel you._

_It makes me wonder if I will ever be able to control the desire I have for you. It's all consuming, and makes it difficult to think about anything else when I am around you. But at the same time, I revel in it. No one brings that out in me. Only you._

_But I take solace in the knowledge that I bring that out in you too. To see you flustered, distracted by something I do. You are so transparent sometimes, that it's all the more tempting to play with you simply to elicit a reaction. To make you blush or look away because you are embarrassed, or to push you knowing that you are too shy to ask. It's not about seeking your discomfort. It's knowing that you react the same way that I do._

_I don't know which awes me more, that you want me, or that you trust me to want you in return. I have not done much to earn that trust, and I will never take it for granted again._

_And so here I sit, watching you sleep. Wishing that I didn't have to go back to London. I'd rather be curled up around you in bed, listening to your breathing, reveling in your warmth. Wondering what strange and fantastic dreams were running around in_

_that wonderful imagination of yours, and fighting the urge to kiss you until you wake up, so that I can make love to you yet again._

_You just smiled in your sleep. I wonder if you are dreaming and if so, of what._

_I admit I hate to leave. Not simply leaving you, but leaving here, leaving the moment. I don't know what to expect when you return to London. I wish that I could hide you away in my flat for a few days. I want to talk to you, make you laugh. I want to be able to come up behind you at the kitchen counter and kiss your neck and feel your heart beat accelerate because I'm close to you. I want more time where it is just us. Time is not our friend right now, and I'll do everything I can to control every minute if that means more time with you._

_But my meeting today is important. I've been unhappy in my work for a long time. I feel like a horrible human being to say that; what I do is important, but it's not fulfilling. When I first started in research, I think I did it out of a sense of guilt. A way to atone for not seeing, not being able to help. But thanks to you, I've come to realize that it was just another way to close myself off, and I can't do that any longer. You've inspired me to look inside myself and find the good._

_There is a spot open in pediatric oncology. They could use someone with my experience, and apparently my rather youthful appearance is seen as a positive factor when dealing with children as patients. If they accept me, I'll be moving into rotation at St Guy's. For the first time in my life I will be actively participating, practicing, helping._

_You give me the courage to do that. I sat back and watched for too long, it's time to go live, you are leading me there._

_So here I sit, on the brink of a new chapter in my life. And all I can do is stare in wonder at you. You are tangled in the sheets, your arm thrown across the bed as if reaching for me. My wildest hope is that you are dreaming of me. I'd like to think that I invade your every thought, regardless of if you are asleep or awake; it gives me more time to be with you._

_So sleep, my beautiful irrational Bella. Sleep and dream of me. Know that I wish I were here with you. My drive home will be filled with memories of you. And while you might expect that it will be dominated by our time in bed, first and foremost, it will be of you, asking for me to take you back._

_Know that I never let you go. I love you. I don't know how not to. While you might see me as a cynic, deep beneath lays the heart of an optimist. You own that part of me._

_Edward_

Dropping my head against the seat back, I closed my eyes and lost myself in his words. How much everything had changed in one short trip. I had been wrong about so many things, and yet here I was with another chance to try. A better chance because I wasn't letting my perceptions skew things. I was confident in my feelings for Edward. In his feelings for me.

In what _could_ be.

I folded the note back into quarters and held it against my chest. He wasn't even in the same county and my heartbeat was accelerated. And yet I basked in it. I had been so afraid of the uncertainty, of not being able to catch my balance that I had missed how much it brought out for me. In me.

Dropping the note onto the seat next to the vase of flowers, I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. Selecting the browser icon, I typed in 'meaning azalea flower' and hit submit. When I read the results, I had to laugh.

Azalea: Fragile and Ephemeral Passion

Nothing Edward did was random, even picking a sprig of flowers to leave with a note. He knew what he was doing, the message he was sending. We were fragile, and our time here was fleeting. But it gave us something to grow from.

I backed up to the main screen on my phone and tapped out a quick text.

_No way was the flower choice random._

The reply was almost immediate

_Why ever would you say that?_

I shook my head and laughed while typing out another quick message.

_Leaving for London, will call you when I get home. Knock 'em dead, Doc!_

I fastened my seatbelt and pulled out of the courtyard. London represented something to me now. When I'd first arrived in England, it had been a chance for redemption, a way to prove that I could accomplish what I set out to do. But now it was more. I had friends here. I had Edward, although putting any type of title to him felt odd. He was simply my Edward.

Mine.

I couldn't have wiped the grin off my face if I tried.

An audio book occupied me for a good part of the drive back. I allowed myself to get lost in characters and a ridiculous plot line about the niece of the president being kidnapped. Not once did I think about my life, my dissertation, or what came next. Very simply, I enjoyed the drive and the inane plotline.

I was about 15 minutes from the flat when my cell phone rang. Turning down the volume, I picked it up to see Emmett's name on the display. I'd missed him, and I sure as heck had a lot to tell him.

"Hey Red Neck. How are you?"

He groaned, but I could tell that he liked it. "Please don't call me that. I am a well educated man whose daddy didn't marry his cousin, thank you very much."

"I have the urge to make livestock jokes, but I'll behave. How are you?"

"I'm okay. More importantly, how are you? Dare I say it, you sound, good…maybe happy?"

I put my phone on hands free so I could rest it in my lap and keep my hands on the steering wheel. I was still challenged to drive on the wrong side of the road, and I didn't want to risk anything.

"I am good, thank you for asking. This trip ended up being exactly what I needed. I am actually heading back to London now. Will I see you on the home front?"

Emmett pulled in a deep breath, and I could hear things rattling around on the other end of the line. "You are coming back today? Shit, I am having dinner with Rose tonight at your place. She has finally cut loose the limey; we are going to actually sit down and talk about us."

"Don't re-route your plans on account of me, I can steer clear." My curiosity was piqued by the news that Rose had finally broken up with Royce, but I had a feeling that mine might not be the most welcomed call at the moment. Rose had a tendency to get a bit defensive about ex-boyfriends, and given the terms on which we had last parted, I highly doubted that she would spill her guts willingly.

"No, that's okay, I can figure it out. I'm not going to force you out on your ear when you don't have anywhere else to go."

I was sitting at a traffic light, when I saw a familiar black car pull into the intersection in front of me.

"You know what, Emmett, totally not a problem. You go right ahead with your plans."

"Are you sure? What are you going to do?"

"I have it all figured out. I'll fill you in later, I've gotta go. Good luck tonight!"

Emmett wished me a confused goodbye, and I quickly pulled up the number I had texted earlier.

"You aren't home already, are you?" He didn't answer the phone with a hello. He knew who was calling.

"No, still in transit. Just wanted to call and see how things went." I stayed a few car lengths behind, hoping that he wouldn't recognize the car.

"Very well, actually. Just left the hospital, and am on my way home now. I think that I turned the charm on enough to have won them over."

"When do you ever not have the charm turned on, Dr. Masen?" I teased as I continued to follow him through London. The street we were on seemed familiar and I saw his turn signal go on before he pulled into the garage of his building.

"An eight year old almost did me in. I am going to have to brush up on my children's literature. Apparently I was uncool because I didn't know what a lemony snicket was."

I laughed at his mock indignation. I could envision Edward sparring of with a feisty eight year old. This might be better for him than he realized.

"So what are you going to do tonight?" I asked innocently as I maneuvered into an open spot down the street.

"Get out of this suit, first and foremost. Then maybe wait for this lovely little American girl I know to get home. I was thinking I could lure her out and do all sorts of debauched things to her."

The words sent a shiver through me. Focus, Bella, you are playing a part here.

"Well, I am going to pull off and grab something to drink. I'll give you a shout when I get to London, okay?"

I could hear him fumbling with his keys. He must be at his door. "Drive safely, Bella."

A couple had just entered the building, and I ran up the sidewalk, calling out a request to hold the door. The man gave it an extra push, and I caught it just before it latched closed.

I hadn't paid much attention to the lobby on my hasty retreat weeks prior. An elevator bank was at one end of the room, with a door leading to the steps across from it. The couple I had followed in took the stairs, and I needed a minute to collect myself, so I hit the call button and waited for the elevator to descend.

The building was older, and it took a ridiculous amount of time for the old brass cage to make its way from the first floor to the third. I took advantage of the time to shoot Rose a quick text message to let her know that I was back, and would see her tomorrow.

By the time the doors opened, it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I stepped out into the hallway, and looked for the doorway to the stairs to get my bearings. We had come out and gone to the left last time. I turned right, mirroring my actions from the previous visit and stopped short of a black lacquered door with the number 302 on it.

My phone beeped just as I was about to knock. It was a text from Rose.

_Back in London, but will see me tomorrow? Yes you will, with details!_

Smiling, I shot back a quick reply telling her I expected the same thing, and then turned my phone off. Taking a deep breath I knocked twice.

On the other side of the door I heard motion, followed by Edward's voice. The door swung open as I heard him say "…yes, I do owe you…."

He froze in the doorway, charcoal grey flannel pin striped suit, white shirt, and midnight blue tie loosened and hanging slightly askew. He stared at me for a long moment before breaking out in a wicked grin.

"Alice, someone is here. I'll call you back later." The cell phone was tossed on the entry way table, and before I could register the motion, Edward had flipped me over his shoulder.

I heard the door slam behind me as Edward carried me into the living room.

"Stopping for a drink, are we? Call me when you get to London, will you?" He dropped me on the couch, and stood over me, hands on hips. "When did you become a little sneak?"

"What, like you are the only one that's allowed a surprise visit?" I sat up, and smiled at him innocently. He was happy to see me.

Edward sat down on the edge of the coffee table, and reached out to skim his thumb across the edge of my lower lip. "I'm just surprised to see you is all. I'd already started working through intricate plots to get you here once you got home."

"Edward, I'm a relatively modern girl. 'Hey, Bella, you have anything going on tonight' tends to work most of the time."

"Oh really? It all seems rather anti-climactic, doesn't it?"

I leaned forward so that my face was inches from his. "No, it seems like cutting through the bullshit and saying what we think."

"Hmm, is that what it is?" His hand slipped up into my hair, our eyes never breaking contact. "Well then, how about this? Bella, would you like to come over? We can order some dinner, make out on the couch, and then go to bed and pick up where we left off early this morning?"

"Oh, so that's how it goes, eh? Feed me and get me into bed? I take it you have more of a stash than what was in your bag?"

"We can go straight to bed If you'd prefer. I'll let you find out the rest."

I crooked my finger at him, indicating that he should come closer. He leaned in a slight bit, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Closer please."

He leaned in a little bit more.

"You are going to be difficult, aren't you?"

"You're the one that's a modern girl, why not be direct?"

"That sounds like a dare, Edward. Fine, I dare you to ditch the tie and jacket and make out with me on the couch…" I let my words trail off as Edward impatiently pulled at the knot of his tie. "After I get a drink."

He stopped in mid tug. The immaculate Windsor knot was undone, and the blue silk hung loosely from his collar. I reached out to grab hold of the wider end, and moving hand over hand, slowly pulled it free. I never broke eye contact.

"Have any Diet Coke?" I asked, trying to appear innocent.

The expression on Edward's face was absolutely priceless, and I realized that for the first time, I had managed to throw him off balance. I smiled and raised my eyebrows in curiosity. I was really enjoying the concept of equality.

"Payback is a bitch, Bella." He stood and held his hand out to me. "Especially when you ask for a drink that requires ice."

We made our way into an immaculate white and stainless steel kitchen, where Edward found something for me to drink.

With ice of course. Most made it in the glass. Some went down my back.

We spent the evening curled up on the couch, talking about his interview, how he felt about treating patients, and what it would mean for his work schedule. And of course, we'd break into intermittent make out sessions, which weren't miserable either.

All in all, it felt like a night that any normal couple would have.

"I am really glad I saw your car on the way home. It never would have crossed my mind to stop here."

"Really? Why is that?" Edward angled his head back so he could see my face. We lay facing each other on the couch, his arm around my waist, my leg draped over his hip.

"I don't know, I guess I haven't allowed myself to title this yet," I pointed back and forth between the two of us, "And without that, I guess I don't know what's presumptuous and what's not."

Edwards arm tightened around me, pulling me in closer. "Shouldn't we be past all that after the last 48 hours?"

"But we aren't talking about the past anymore, remember? This is future tense."

"Lectured on sentence structure by an English major, is that what my life has been reduced to?"

I gave him a jab in the chest. "Watch it, I'm going to be a doctor too, you know. Then I'll make you eat those words."

Edward pushed my hair back from my shoulder, his gaze focused on the motion. "I guess the answer to your query ties directly to that doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your time in London is based solely on your dissertation. We've already discussed that you have to go back to the States to defend it. That kind of puts a natural bracket on us, doesn't it? A beginning and an end, so to speak?"

I hadn't allowed myself to think on his questions yesterday regarding my dissertation. I'd hoped for a bit more time to figure things out before having the conversation.

"What if I don't want it to be an end? What if I want it go keep going?" I was certain in my declaration, although I had no clue how to make it happen. There were still so many things in the air, of which only a few I had control of.

"Then what do you want, Bella? I've made it abundantly clear where I'm at. I need you to come clean too."

I slipped my arm out from underneath his, and pushed the hair back that had fallen in his eyes. He always seemed so collected, so confident in his thoughts, in his needs. I envied his conviction in stating his thoughts.

"What do I want? I don't even know how to articulate it, Edward. I've always focused on getting my doctorate and teaching at some cool little college somewhere. But here it is late March, and the likelihood of me being done in time to find something in the fall is slim to none. I'll probably have to take some type of job on campus or in a library to make ends meet while I write some research papers to build credibility. That puts me at least a year out from finding a teaching position somewhere. I have more than enough money saved up to make it a four or five more months of not working, but then what?"

"That's your education, Bella. I meant us."

"It _is_ about us, Edward. I'll get my dissertation done; I'll have my doctorate, but then what? I need to find a job, which will determine where I live. You are taking a new position, which means you aren't likely to leave London, and I kind of have to go wherever there is a spot open. A year of no work is all I budgeted for, and I already put a steady dent in those funds."

"I have more than enough money, I can take care of …" I cut him off before he could finish.

"No. I appreciate that, but no. Just…no." I had to laugh at his idealism. Three days ago we weren't really speaking, and now he was offering to take care of me? While gallant, it was also very eighteenth century. "I've let too many people take care of me for too long. It's time I take care of myself."

"I am only being practical, Bella. We both want the same thing. It only makes sense…"

"Let's agree to this, Edward. Call us whatever you want. Hell, call me whatever you want for that matter. There is no where else in the world that I would rather be than with you. We'll find a way to make this work. I promise. I am not ready to give up on us."

"And what about in the meantime? What are we?"

He spoke quietly, and I wasn't sure where he was headed with his questions.

"What do you want us to be?"

"Hmmm…" Edward stared directly into my eyes, bringing his hand up to trace the hollow at the base of my throat. "I may need to play with some options."

I swallowed in reaction; he knew exactly how to make the simplest statement sound…indecent.

"Let's see…option one could be 'significant other.'' He continued to run his finger around the hollow of my throat, eyes never leaving my face.

"Too clichéd." My answer was too fast. Edward smiled; He was right, I was transparent, at least when it came to him.

"Wouldn't want that now, would we? Very well then, option two could be 'object of my affection.'" His finger completed the circuit and slowly shifted lower, pushing open the placket of my shirt to trail down along the edge of my bra.

"Or we could go with option three, 'beloved.'" He leaned in; his lips were on my shoulder, slowly kissing his way down the path he had just trailed with his finger.

"That's a bit of an awkward introduction at dinner parties." My retort was shaky, and Edward chuckled against my skin. Coherent thought was slowly slipping away, taking with it my ability to get out a decent response.

"What if I have a 'for public consumption' title, something innocuous and boring like girlfriend? Then I can call you something different when we are alone?"

"Like what? Honey? Darlin'?" I over annunciated on the darlin', mimicking Edward's greeting the first day I met him.

He lifted his head to look directly into my eyes. "That or maybe something more appropriate. I was thinking more along the lines of lover, although I am rather partial to mine, even if that's not a proper title. Then again, I know that no one else will be calling you that. At least not if I have my say about it."

I could feel the blood rush to my face.

Edward sat up on the couch and swung his legs around to stand up. "Come on, it's not that late, but somehow I think I would rather continue this conversation in my room. Preferably sans clothes."

He pulled me up off the couch, and reached over to flip off the end table light.

I couldn't help but notice the cluster of photos on the table. Alice and Jasper. A photo of Alice and Edward with an older couple, who I assumed were his parents. Edward and Carlisle standing on a ski slope somewhere, poles resting against their shoulders.

And one empty wood frame. It still held the manufacturers fake artwork behind he glass.

"That's yours. I picked it up at the hospital gift shop today. Seemed like place to start. I just need something to put in it, you know."

Edward was watching me intently.

"What do you mean, it's mine?"

"You are a smart girl, Bella, figure it out. Now come on." He grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him towards the bedroom.

And I followed willingly, realizing that when I woke up to get water or food in the middle of the night, it would be my picture frame that was knocked off the table.

Mine. Whether it was a description of me or my place in his life, I didn't care. So long as I had it.

That's all I wanted.


	28. Chapter 28

_My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your girls that you all love are mine already; and through them you and others shall yet be mine - my creatures, to do my bidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 22 - Incorrect Assumptions**

Once back in London, we quickly fell into a comfortable groove. My days were spent at the library. My nights, assuming he wasn't working, were with Edward.

I could say that we fell into pattern of an established couple. But it would be a lie. While we did normal 'couple like' things, the intensity, the need only grew. We couldn't exist in the same room without touching. And touching always devolved into something else. It's a miracle that we ever left Edward's flat. And when we did, it's even more impressive that we didn't get arrested for indecency.

It wasn't just him, although he did have a penchant for pulling me into dark or secluded corners. I fueled the fire too, albeit in a more provocative way. One evening when we were out to dinner, I decided to try the whole 'foot in the lap' bit a la Flashdance. Needless to say, desert was not consumed at the restaurant that night.

If anything, the connection between us became stronger. The lines blurred to the point that there was no before, simply now. Everything about Edward consumed me, and it took all that I had not to get pulled under, not to lose myself in the tempest.

There were moments when everything about him scared me to no end. Yet through it, there were things that I began to realize about myself which made the fear and uncertainty all worthwhile. I was finally living outside of my comfort zone, believing in what I could be.

I couldn't have gotten there on my own.

Edward pushed my buttons, argued with me, taunted me to no end. But then he would compliment me, encourage me; listen to my thoughts like no one else had ever done. He helped me learn how to really stand up for myself, to have confidence in who I could be and in what I thought. He had no compunction calling bullshit or asking why when no one else ever had. It was intimidating at first, but once I understood what and why he was doing, I began to thrive in it and what it brought out in me.

"I feel like I am talking to a three year old. Every other word out of you is why!" I ranted one Saturday morning. Edward had just finished reading the full draft of my dissertation, and was peppering me with questions about the contrast between Lucy/Mina and the Weird Sisters. He refused to let me go until I could justify my position.

"You are letting emotion cloud your thoughts. Be objective. There is a difference in their actions, and humanity is not enough of a justification. If you can't defend it to me, how are you ever going to defend it to someone you don't know?"

"Because defending it to someone I don't know will be easier!" I shot back, frustrated. "You ask me questions and then stare at me while I try to answer, and I can't think!"

"That is the kind of pressure you'll be under, so it's good that you can't think. You need to learn to control your emotions. Everything is too close to the surface, and it takes over. You need to rein it in."

I threw a pillow at him in frustration. How do I rein it in? Somehow I didn't think my dissertation committee will be looking at me like they want to throw me down and screw me six ways to Sunday.

"Fine!" I stood, pulling in a breath before wandering aimlessly around the room. "It's different because Mina's and Lucy's actions were driven by love. Romantic, physical, fraternal, it doesn't matter! Where as the Weird Sisters were driven solely by thirst.

Yes, the common bond is lust; sexual attraction, but that is the only link between the two. The intent for Lucy and Mina was good, and intent is what counts."

I stopped my pacing to look up at Edward, my eyes wide in mortification at my answer.

He was smiling at me as if I'd just told him that E=MC2.

"Now that really wasn't that difficult, was it?"

I couldn't help but smile back. I felt like a little kid receiving praise for answering a question correctly. "No, but you did have to goad me."

"I didn't goad you. I just pushed you a little. You know this stuff, Bella. Have faith in yourself."

Have faith. It was easier said than done. Flopping down on the couch next to him, I sighed dramatically.

"Next thing you'll tell me to picture them all naked."

"No, the only person I want you picturing naked is me, and I'd rather have the real thing." He grabbed me around the waist, pulling me onto his lap. "So should I reward you for your break through? A bit of Pavlovian reinforcement?"

"I don't want reinforcement, thank you." My hands were resting on his chest, and I could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. It had become my anchor, my calming point when I felt ruffled. My hand on his chest and that easy constant beat always calmed me down. "I'd be perfectly happy if you took me to bed and fucked me senseless."

"For an English major, your language is absolutely atrocious, you know that?" Edward wisecracked as he leaned back into the couch.

"I was making a point for dramatics," I shot back, confused. I'd expected my feeble attempt at talking dirty to spur him on, not push him away.

"Is that what it was? What if I don't want to 'fuck you senseless' to use your parlance?"

"Your loss," I retorted, trying to stand up.

Edward sighed and tightened his arms around my waist. "Bella, I am not trying to antagonize you. I am making a point. Don't think this is only about sex. I want more from you than that."

He was right, it was easy to let the physical aspect of our attraction take over, drive our interactions. There was more to us than that; it was just all wrapped up in a complex, infuriating bundle that interconnected. Sometimes it was hard to separate lust from love, affection and attention.

"I'm sorry." I looked down at my lap, embarrassed. "This is just all so new to me. I don't know how to balance what my brain and body are telling me, and for some reason my body tends to shout the loudest around you," I admitted sheepishly.

"Damn hormones," he teased and kissed me on the forehead. "I'm just as guilty. It's easy to get swept away in it all. And unfortunately," Edward glanced down at his watch. "Getting swept away would make you late. You promised Rose that you would be there by noon, so you'd better get a move on."

Groaning, I pushed up off the couch and straightened my t-shirt. "I know, I know. I'm going. We'll see you at 2."

Edward smacked my butt as I leaned down to grab my backpack.

"You aren't helping, Edward," I chided.

"Sorry, it was there, how could I resist?" He gave me a wide eyed innocent look. I knew better. "Why don't you leave your backpack here? You'll be back later tonight, save your spine and all that rubbish."

"You are a hematologist, not a Chiropractor, _Dr. Masen_," I mocked him. "Just remember, you promised that you'd give Emmett a run down on the rules, okay? No torturing the Yank, no matter how much you like to wind him up."

Edward sighed dramatically and held his hands up in resignation. "Fine, fine. I'll help him out. But once we start playing, he's on his own."

Blowing Edward a kiss, I made my way down to the street to hail a cab. Rose was going to pick up food and meet me at the flat by noon to start packing up. We'd promised Emmett we would meet him at the park at two with the trappings of an all American picnic. Fried chicken, potato salad, deviled eggs, the works. Emmett insisted if he was going to play a 'pansy ass game' like Rugby, he sure as hell was going to do it his own way.

The entire concept of Emmett playing rugby came on a dare from a British colleague who had gotten tired of Emmett talking about American football. He'd dared Emmett to give rugby a try, telling him that real men play a sport that doesn't require protective gear. Edward had volunteered to back him up and to give him a crash course in the rules, but I knew Edward well enough to expect that there would be laughs at Emmett's expense.

We'd spent a lot of time with Emmett since returning from Whitby. He and Edward had actually become fast friends, and bonded in a way that only men can. A stranger would wonder if they hadn't been friends for years the way they joked around.

It was nice to see the two men that I loved, albeit in different ways, find a common ground to work from. I could see through the bluster and bravado that Emmett put up easily, and I could tell that he was lonely. He'd mentioned staying on in London indefinitely. If that were to happen, he needed to build a friend base that would be around in five or six months.

Speaking of Rose, we'd had a good heart to heart when I got back to London; both of us conciliatory to our behavior, but agreeing that the base intent was genuine.

As much as it had hurt, there was honesty in both our words that night. It was painful to hear, but we had both learned and adjusted our actions out of it. Rose's first step had been a phone conversation with Royce while I was in Whitby, telling him that she didn't want a romantic involvement. That didn't end the phone calls or flower deliveries, but to me, it was a step in the right direction.

And just like he had mentioned when we spoke in the car that day, Rose and Emmett sat down to talk about the state of their relationship. Not only what had transpired, but where it was going. I had desperately wanted to ask how it went, and what was decided, but I knew it was inappropriate to pry when I was so close to both of them.

Deep down, I knew that there was something more than just a physical attraction between them, but I also knew that my dabbling would only make things worse. So I did the only thing I could do. Offered shoulders to both of them, and made sure I was out of the flat as much as possible. The less I was around, the more opportunity they would had to convert what ever had been before into something longer lasting.

There were times when I felt guilty about not spending more time with Rose, but that was invariably tempered by the realization that her project would be up in another month and a half, sending us both back to the states. I had done some digging into the cost of potentially staying in London, although the cost of living was astronomical, especially given the fact that I had minimal to no job prospects over here. At one point, I toyed with asking Jasper for help, but knew that an institution like Kings wouldn't touch a freshly minted doctoral candidate with a ten foot pole. The ability to stay and make ends meet while working in a bookstore or the desk at library as laughable, and as much as I realized that this is where I wanted to be, I couldn't accept Edward's offer to cover my expenses. I needed to be able to truly stand on my own before I could ever think about depending on someone else, simply for the knowledge that I could do it if necessary.

I owed that to myself.

My reverie was broken when the cabbie announced that we had arrived. I paid him, and was climbing out of the car as I saw Rose coming up the street, arms loaded down with. I held out a hand to take one from her.

"What did you buy?" I asked as I peeked over the edge.

"All kinds of junk food. I ran out of time, so I grabbed a bunch of finger food."

"What happened to fried chicken?" When I spoke to Rose yesterday morning, she'd told me about her grand plans to make everything from scratch in exchange for me providing home made potato salad and deviled eggs.

"Royce showed up unannounced," she answered quietly, not meeting my gaze. "I had to deal with that."

I followed Rose up the stairs, waiting for her to continue. Whatever had happened, it obviously wasn't good.

"Look, I am not going to beat around the bush Bella, because this could affect you too. He was drunk, and he was pissed off. He was going on and on about how he wanted me back, that he loved me. I tried to be diplomatic and convince him to leave, but then he tried to force his way in. I managed to get the door closed and bolted and hoped that he would get the clue, but it totally set him off. He started pounding on the door demanding that I let him in. I couldn't do it though, something just felt off about it. That's when he started kicking and banging on the door, like he was trying to knock it down."

We cleared the last step and turned towards our flat I gasped.

The door looked as though it had been attacked with a hammer or something. Chunks of wood were gouged out of the door and millwork. There were also a few large dents in the plaster around the frame, as if it had been caught in the cross fire as well.

"Jesus Rose…" I stepped forward to run my hand across a dent in the wall.

"I called the police, and they ran him off, but it was…" She broke off, voice shaking.

"Why didn't you call me? I would have come home."

"I left. I didn't think it was wise for either of us to be here."

Unable to tear my gaze away from the door, I processed her words, horrified at what could have happened.

"Where did you go?"

She still wouldn't look me in the eye. "Emmett's."

"What did you tell him?"

Rose unlocked the door and pushed it open. "That there was a drunk guy causing problems in the building, and that I was too spooked to be there alone."

"You didn't tell him the truth." I wasn't an attack, simply an observation.

"No, I censored, but I didn't lie. He would have gone off half cocked and done who knows what. I didn't want him to do anything stupid. Royce's family has some serious clout, and I don't want to think what they could do to Emmett."

Looking around the apartment, I turned over her comments in my mind. Something didn't make sense. She was too calm and collected about the whole thing. She'd thought this through way too well.

"Rose, this isn't the first time he's gotten out of hand, is it?"

She set the paper bag on the kitchen counter, and leaned back with her arms crossed over her chest. I'd never seen her look as tired or defeated as she did standing in our tiny little kitchen, the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"He pushed it verbally a few times, but he had always been drinking. The only time it ever came close to physical was that night that Emmett was here, and we got into it."

"What'd he do, Rose?"

Running her hands through her hair, Rose closed her eyes and took a long breath.

"He wanted to come in, to have sex with me. Well, actually, his euphemisms weren't so polite. I told him he had too much to drink and to leave me alone. He didn't like that, and decided to try and give things a go in the hallway. He was taunting me, calling me a tease for holding out on him, that sort of thing."

"So the slam against the door was…?" I needed her to say it, to be honest.

"The slam against the door was me."

My hands immediately flew to my mouth, stifling a gasp. It was a stupid reaction, but I couldn't help it.

"He was totally conciliatory after, and I chalked it up to him not being able to hold his alcohol. But the more I saw him, the more I realized that he wasn't the nice guy I thought he was. I guess I got caught up in the romance of 'who' he was enough to discount his actions. It's stupid, and I made my own bed, but I've dealt with it now of."

She pushed off the counter, and started moving around the kitchen, focusing on moving bottles of beer from the refrigerator to a soft sided cooler.

"It's all over now, Bella. I was stupid, and should have broken it off a long time ago, but I didn't. But it's taken care of now, and he's not going to bug me anymore. The police coming here last night pretty much assured that. Now come on, we have stuff to pack."

Rose made a valiant attempt to lighten the mood and shift both our thoughts away from Royce King and our battered front door. She told stories about work and hinted at the fact that she'd be approached about extending her stay, even opening up about Emmett a bit. I could tell that it was hard for her, but if she didn't want to talk about it, then I would have to let it be. Once we got to the park I'd figure out a way to get Edward alone and fill him in as to what had happened. He'd know what to do about protective orders in England, as well as what the police could do to help keep Rose safe.

I never thought I would say it, but the thought of calling Mike actually crossed my mind. He would have known what to in a situation like this. But calling would have been wrong on my part.

By 1:45 we'd packed up food, blankets, and umbrellas, and loaded everything into a cab, which dropped us off in front of a small local park. We easily located the game, already in progress, following the laughter and raucous singing. Two large knots of men dressed in all states of athletic apparel dominated the field. The sidelines were full of women and children, socializing, playing, or just enjoying the game.

It was easy to pick Emmett out. The bright blue and white of his Tennessee Titans football jersey stood out like a neon sign against the muted neutrals and dark colors of the other players. He waved hello, grinning and tugging on the front of his jersey with a thumbs up. Rose shook her head, mumbling something under her breath about large children before waving back. She could grumble and grouse all she wanted; there was no denying the smile that lit up her face when she saw Emmett.

We spread out the blankets as Rose pulled beers from a soft sided cooler. I grabbed the bag of popcorn we had popped at home. We probably looked like idiots, but we'd promised Emmett an all American throw down, and we were going to give it to him.

About fifteen minutes into play, a steady drizzle started to fall. We pulled up the blankets, and took refuge under our umbrellas with our beers.

Emmett was clearly struggling to pick up the rules of the game, but his athleticism and enthusiasm gave him a natural advantage. He stopped the opposing team from advancing the ball a few times, although his 'touch' was a little over zealous, resulting in at least a few bodies on the ground. Everyone seemed to be good natured about it, and took to taunting Emmett about Rugby being a gentleman's sport. I didn't know much about the game, but even I knew that wasn't true.

He and Edward made a good pair, Em blocking as Edward dodged and weaved around the opposing team. I was surprised at how fast he was. I'd never really thought about him in relation to sports, yet seeing him playing rugby, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

We stayed huddled under the umbrellas, drinking beer and catcalling from the sideline as Emmett missed tagging an opponent. The grass was wet enough to make traction difficult, and he ended up flat on his ass, howling with laughter.

"You know, there is one good thing to this," Rose observed as she took a sip from a bottle of beer.

"What would that be?" I asked, pulling my blanket closer in around me to close out the chill in the air.

Instead of answering, Rose inclined the neck of her bottle towards the field. Edward's hand was extended, pulling Emmett to his feet. They stood side by side, Edward gesturing as if explaining something. The rain had soaked his hair, making it appear almost black, and he pushed it back from his eyes with a careless gesture. Emmett's baseball hat was on backward, and the crown was dark from the moisture. Both of their legs and shorts were streaked in mud and grass.

"I'm not kinky type of girl at all, but if that visual doesn't make you consider a threesome, nothing will," Rose stated innocently.

"Hey, get your dirty mind off my boyfriend!" I watched Emmett throw his head back in laughter, pushing Edward's shoulder in jest. Edward pushed him back, a wicked grin on his face. "On second thought, you can have all the naughty fantasies you want, just be quiet while I stare and drool."

We watched them walk back to the huddle, joking and playing around like two teenage boys.

"How many flag football games did we go to in college? I sure as hell don't remember them ever looking like that." She stared longingly at Emmett, who pulled his jersey up

to wipe the water away from his face. "Damn, look at that stomach! I could lick the water right off of him…"

"I don't want or need to hear what you'd like to do to him, thank you very much." I teased Rose as I watched Edward flick the ball around carelessly. I watched his hands in fascination, amazed at how effortless he made it looked. He paused, looking up to flash me an absolutely devilish grin. He busted me staring, and he wasn't going to let me live it down. But it was okay, I knew that smile. And I knew the thoughts that typically accompanied it. This game needed to be over, soon. Rose wasn't the only one who was getting worked up by the rampant display of bravado and testosterone.

"He's got it just as bad as you do. You two are border line sickening," Rose observed as she glanced at me, a self satisfied smile highlighting her amusement.

"Stop it!" I protested, looking away to hide my embarrassment at being caught. Fortunately, play resumed, and with it, the banter and teasing as Emmett continued to try and pick up the concept of Rugby. After each dead play, Edward would walk him through what happened and why. They'd stand close together, Edward's arm thrown over Emmett's shoulders as he explained why something happened or how Emmett should have handled the situation.

While I'd never admit it to her, Rose was right, watching the two of them standing together did give a girl ideas, and I felt the blood rush to my face in embarrassment for even considering it.

They played for another hour, getting progressively muddier as the rain continued to fall. By the time the game was called, both Emmett and Edward were soaking wet, their clothes streaked with mud and grass stains.

"Rosie, baby, come give me a big ole smooch!" Emmett called as he sauntered over, arms held wide and a goofy smile on his face.

"No way, you are a disgusting mess!" Rose held her hands up to block him, but I noticed that she also didn't push back when he pulled her into a hug and nuzzled into her neck.

"Aww come on, don't be that way…" Emmett pleaded innocently.

"I think I am going to be sick…" I teased, looking away. Secretly I was ecstatic. It was the closest I'd seen to any real affection between them, and I couldn't help but silently sigh in relief.

"What, Emmett gets a kiss and I don't?" Edward's voice was quiet in my ear. He stepped in behind me; close enough to whisper without touching.

"I didn't realize you wanted one."

"Oh there are a number of things that I want, Isabella. But none of them appropriate in front of all these people."

"Stop it! You are not going to get me all wound up here…"

Edward chuckled and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Fine, I'll just take you home then. You can help me get cleaned up. I seem to have mud in some inopportune places."

"You're not taking her anywhere, bub!" Rose called out. "You two are going to go get cleaned up and buy us a few pints for standing out here in the rain. It's the least you can do!"

"I don't know, Rose. I kind of like the mud." I looked up at Edward through my eyelashes. I didn't want to go drinking, I wanted to go home. Now. With him.

"No way! We are going to go out and have a good time. Simple as that!" Rose protested. She was busy folding up blankets and stuffing them back in the bag. Emmett sat on the ground next to her, taking a pull off the beer she had given him.

"Come on, Bella. It will be fun. We'll toss back a few, then you two can go back to Edward's and do all that kinky shit that we know you repressed types like to do."

"He does have a point, you know," Edward teased quietly. "You do come off a bit repressed."

I jabbed Edward in the ribs in mock consternation. He laughed and pulled me into an embrace, a quick kiss on the cheek his conciliatory gesture.

"And if I recall, you do get rather feisty when you drink, so maybe we should go after all," Edward whispered in my ear. "I could end up having some fun with this."

Emmett stood up, clapping his shoes together to shake off the mud.

"We'll meet you at the usual spot in an hour, okay? Should give me more than enough time to get cleaned up." He knotted the shoes and draped them over the strap of the bag. "Edward, you can shower at my place so you don't have to schlep home."

Edward cocked an eyebrow at Emmett with a dubious look. "Schlepp? What the bloody hell is that?"

We parted ways at the entry to the park, with the promise to meet at our pub in an hour. The mood was light on the ride home, and was only slightly dampened when I took in our mauled front door.

I had forgotten to mention the whole Royce situation to Edward. I simply couldn't shake the feeling that we hadn't seen the last of him. But Royce King didn't deserve my thoughts tonight. I wanted to go out and have a good time with my friends, not waste my time on him.

"Emmett's going to see the door when he comes over, you know," I reminded Rose as I headed for my bedroom.

"I am hoping that they'll have it fixed before then," she called back.

"You can't hide this from him. Nor should you. Emmett has a right to know. He'd want to help."

"Maybe I don't want him to help." Rose stood in my doorway, a brush in her hand. "It was bad enough that I dated them both at the same time. He doesn't need Royce thrown in his face again. Nor does he need to protect me; I am a big girl Bella."

"I hope you know what you are doing, Rose. I appreciate you wanting to protect Emmett, but he deserves to know."

Since we were going to the pub, there was no need to change clothes. Hair and teeth were brushed, makeup touched up and we were ready to go.

"You two looked cozy today. Dare I say it; is there a thaw in the nuclear winter?" I teased as I opened our door.

"Maybe. Although it takes an awful lot of heat to thaw things out."

"Somehow, Ms. Hale, I don't think you will have any issue generating heat with the Redneck," I shot back. I loved being able to tease her again. I could tell be the look on her face that she felt it too.

I stepped forward into the hallway as Rose pulled the door shut to lock it.

"Oh we've never had a problem with heat. It's logic that kills me every time. I'm around him, and I just want clothes to be gone."

"Well isn't that just bloody lovely. You are quite the little tramp, aren't you Rosalie?" A cultured voice rang out from the top of the steps. Royce stood there, fists balled, face a livid red.

He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Rose. "Tarting around with a new chap, are we? I should have expected as much from you."

Something was off. It was apparent that he was angry, but his words were delivered in a cold, clipped fashion. He sounded almost robotic.

"Go call the police, Rose." The words were out of my mouth before I could think.

"No, Rosalie. Don't you dare. You and I have things to discuss."

My mind was racing, and all I could think of were the gouges in the door. If he did that to try and get at Rose, what would happen if he finally caught her?

Anger sparked a course of adrenaline through me, and I stepped forward without thinking.

"You have no business here after last night. You need to leave _now_." My tone was cold, and I hoped, authoritative. But Royce just laughed.

"Or what, you'll ring the constable? I think not. Not like they would listen to either of you little sluts anyway. Now run along so that Rosalie and I can _talk_."

His words infuriated me. His arrogance, the entitlement. I pulled myself up as tall as I could, hands on my hips.

"Leave. Now."

"Bella, it's not…" Rose called out from behind me. But it was too late. Royce's arm swung once, his palm catching me across my cheek, rocking my head back. My mouth filled with warm liquid that tasted of copper and salt.

His second circuit was with a closed fist, not an open palm. It knocked me off balance, sending me stumbling backwards. I vaguely registered Rose calling my name as I stepped back, trying to catch my balance.

A sharp pain exploded in my head along with a bright light.

Then everything went dark.


	29. Chapter 29

**Excerpt 3, Journal of Dr Edward Masen**

Six days ago, my life was perfect. Six days…six fekking days.

Now all I can do is pour everything out here. I have to stay positive, stay in the right frame of mind.

So instead of telling you everything that I really want to say, I am writing it all down here, along with some of the media coverage. When you wake up and you are ready, I'll show it all to you so that you know.

You deserve to have someone tell you the truth.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

**Attack on Two American Women in Waterloo**

April 26, 2009

A young woman was left fighting for her life in hospital after being attacked in a second floor flat in London.

The 27 year old woman was rushed to the hospital, suffering from serious head injuries. Her roommate was treated at the scene.

A spokesman for the Metropolitan Police said: "We were called by the ambulance service to a flat in Waterloo at about 5:30 pm to reports of a girl in her mid twenties with head injuries.

"Two friends, aged 29 and 31, arrived at the flat and found her lying in the entry way unconscious. They heard her flat mate upstairs fighting with the attacker.

The girl was taken to St Guy's hospital where she remains in stable but serious condition.

Police believe the injuries were caused by a blow or several blows to the head as she fell down the steps.

DI Eric Yorkie said: "This is a very serious incident which has left a young woman with significant injuries.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

**King Questioned Over Assault Allegation**

April 27, 2009

The Hon. Royce King, son of Viscount Rochester was questioned today after an allegation of assault on an American woman in Waterloo.

King walked into a London police station at lunchtime on Monday to be interviewed about an assertion brought by Rosalie Hale that he attacked her and her flat mate, Isabella Swan.

King looked relaxed as he drew up in a cab followed by the press.

Earlier today, a member of Viscount Rochester's office "categorically" denied any allegation of assault.

Miss Hale told the Daily Mirror that King had slapped and punched her flat mate as she attempted to stop him approaching Ms. Hale. During the alleged assault, Miss Swan fell down a flight of steps, requiring hospitalisation.

This assault happened less than twenty four hours after King was forcibly removed from the property at the request of Miss Hale.

She told the newspaper: "It was absolutely terrifying and totally shocking."

Miss Swan is in critical but stable condition at St. Guy's Hospital.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

**King Rejects Assault Claim**

April 28, 2009

The Hon. Royce King, son of the Viscount Rochester will strongly deny "unfounded" allegations that he assaulted two American women in their flat on April 22 and will sue once his innocence is proven, an agent from his father's office said yesterday.

The 31 year old business man was questioned by London police over the alleged assault and has been released on bail until next month.

A representative from the Viscount's office added: "Mr. King is completely innocent. We will defend this vigorously."

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

**Police Drop Assault Investigation Against Royce King**

April 30, 2009

Metropolitan police have dropped investigations against The Hon. Royce King over allegations that the 31 year-old assaulted two women, it emerged Tuesday.

The son of the Viscount Rochester spent more than nine hours at a police station earlier in the week, where he was questioned over the claims.

King, who has allegedly had problems with alcohol, was questioned earlier in the week after voluntarily attending a Lambeth Borough police station.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

**Business News: King Assigned to Tokyo Position**

May 1, 2009

The Hon. Royce King, son of Viscount Rochester, has accepted the position of Managing Director for the family's holding company in the region. He will assume the position immediately.

**-I-I-I-I-I-**

Not even a week ago, you were in my flat, ranting about your dissertation. You paced back and forth, hands circling in the air, betraying exactly how agitated you were. You were rambling on about the difference between love and lust. The idealism in your defense was inspiring. You really did believe that true love could conquer all.

Eight hours later I found you lying in the vestibule of your building covered in blood. How did things flip so quickly?

You've been in a hospital bed for six days. The initial MRI showed a large cerebral contusion with significant swelling. After a few major rows with the ER doctors and the neurologist on call, they decided to keep you under until the swelling goes down. Initially the idiot in the ER wanted to drain the blood, but the neurologist crushed that recommendation forthwith. Fortunately, the MRI and X-rays didn't reveal any fractures or tears, which further buttressed the decision. The neurologist and I spoke at length, and agreed that it was safest to keep you under, as the barbiturates will help the swelling go down faster.

This is safer for you. I know this. I understand this. But it doesn't make waiting for you to wake up any easier.

You look so tiny, so bloody helpless in that bed, and there is not a damn thing I can do but wait. I joked with you once that I'm not patient. It's true. I need you to wake up, to know that you'll be okay, that you are coming back to me.

Rose has come by a few times with flowers and such. She even brought you a silly threadbare stuffed dog that has seen better days. She didn't explain, simply stated that it was important to you, and tucked it under your arm.

I hated her for that. I hated her for being the cause of this mess. I hated her for knowing more about you than I did. I hated her for causing so much pain. I hated that it was you in that bed, not her.

My anger is irrational. I know that. But I can't help it. I can't help anything right now, and I feel absolutely and utterly helpless. I've spent the last few weeks preparing myself for the eventuality of you leaving, but I thought that leaving meant going back to the states, not this.

Anything but this.

So much has happened, and I can't tell you, because I don't want to upset you. On a whim, we came to your flat instead of meeting you at the pub. Emmett was just too damn excited to see Rose. We heard the shouting before the door was even open. He took off up the stairs as soon as we were inside. I don't remember anything but seeing you lying there. I think that image will be burned in my mind for the rest of my life.

According to Emmett, it's a small miracle he didn't kill the git. He was too emotional, not thinking, and left King the opening for one cheap shot. It was long enough for him to get past Emmett.

I could have stopped him, but that would have meant leaving you. I had already called for an ambulance, and you weren't responsive. Had you been, he wouldn't have walked away.

Our showing up when we did wasn't enough to make a case against King. Emmett didn't see him touch Rose, and it's her word against his on what happened with you. Of course, King's family threatened legal action against Rose, saber rattling about slander and inferring that someone of their stature would never descend to that level of depravity. There were rumors that they were going to go after Emmett for assault as well, but as of yet, no charges have been filed.

I know your first concern will be about Rose, although she doesn't deserve it. She's okay physically. A few bruises on her arms. Mentally, well, I've left that to Emmett. I just can't go there right now.

We had quite the row after I knew you were okay. I still can't believe how selfishly she acted, and what damage she's wrought. I know that she is absolutely beside herself with worry and guilt, but I don't care.

She hasn't been staying at your flat, if it's any comfort. Emmett refuses to let her stay there alone, and apparently raised one hell of a stink at their company about getting her new housing. I don't think I'd cross that man when he's angry. Almost makes me feel sorry should Emmett ever have a crack at King.

Jasper and Alice have been here every day. You've made quite an impression on both of them. Alice brings you fresh flowers, and Jasper spends an hour reading to you. Today was a few chapters of _Alice in Wonderland_. I thought it an odd choice, but he insisted that it would be 'a good workout for your subconscious.' I could have argued it with him, but I let it slide. I'd rather debate science versus the arts with you, not my brother in law.

I'm rambling, I know. There are so many things that I want to say to you, but I don't for fear of upsetting you. So I read to you, I tell you stories about my childhood, about my cases. I've brought the speakers in for my iPod and play music for you. I even tell you raunchy jokes. Anything to let you know that I am here. I won't leave you.

When you wake up there are so many things that we need to do. I want to take you back to the zoo. I want to go back to Whitby; we'll stay with Carlisle and Esme, but I want you to meet my parents. I want to take you to my favorite museums, and make you keep trying curry until you fall in love with it. I want to spend Sundays in bed with the newspaper and the telly remote. I want you to take me to the states, introduce me to your world so that I can understand more about you.

I want nothing and everything, so long as it gives me more time with you.

That's really what it comes down to, isn't it? Time. It feels like we are continuously robbed of it. One thing after another conspires to test us, keep us apart. I would have thought by now we would have proven that we were strong enough, more than worthy. Alice keeps reminding me that everything happens for a reason, but I am having a horrible time finding a good justification for any of this.

The worst part of it all, my mind keeps slipping back to Maggie. Not as competition for you, but more as a reminder. Life is too short, and we have already lost so much. I need you to be okay so that I can make up for that lost time. I should have learned from Maggie. I thought I did. But apparently there were things that I should have paid attention to but didn't.

I think the worst part of it is that even though I am a doctor, I am absolutely useless to you right now. There isn't a bloody thing that I can do but sit and wait. All that knowledge running around in my head means nothing. I can't change a thing.

Please come back to me. I need you. I've never said that to anyone before, and it scares the bollocks out of me to say it. I don't know how to be me anymore, just us.

You promised me that you weren't going anywhere. I am holding you to that. You have to come back to me. You promised.


	30. Chapter 30

_For life be, after all, only a waitin' for somethin' else than what we're doin', and death be all that we can rightly depend on._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 23 - Sleeping Beauty**

The first thought I registered was that my tongue felt like it'd been coated in wallpaper glue.

My mouth opened, and my lips were just as dry. It was like I'd run a marathon. My body ached, my brain was cloudy, and I would have happily sold my soul for a drink of water.

It was difficult to open my eyes. They felt so heavy, and then when I could finally crack them open, the light streaming made my head scream in pain.

"Too bright…" I whispered to myself.

"Hey, shh…it's okay…I'm here…" Edward's voice cut through the fog. I could feel his hand on my face. I smiled, closed my eyes, and drifted back off to sleep.

The next time I opened my eyes, the room was dark. My nose itched, but when I tried to move my arm, it was heavy. Something like a clamp covered my index finger, and an IV line ran into my arm.

I tried to lift my head to look around, but I was so tired, it was almost impossible to move. Giving up I slowly leaned my head towards the small bit of light that filtered in. It came from a large window that I didn't recognize, the blinds pulled open to let in the moonlight.

My eyes slowly made a circuit around the room, taking in the antiseptic environments of what must be a hospital. A television hung on an arm from the wall. Monitors to my left. An IV stand and bag next to them.

Slowly shifting my head to the other side, I registered a chair pulled close enough for the occupant to rest his head on my bed. The mess of red hair pressed up against my leg, as if instilling comfort or support.

Edward's eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open as he slept. A small furrow dented in between his eyebrows, the faint light deepening the dark circles under his eyes.

He looked horrible and wonderful at the same time.

I wanted to wake him up; to ask why I was here, what had happened, but my mouth was too dry to talk. I slipped my arm down my leg to rest the edge of my hand against his head. Then I closed my eyes, dropping back off into the sleep that was claiming me.

When my eyes opened again, the room was lighter, although not as painful as the first time. Edward sat in the same chair I had noticed earlier. His feet were propped on my bed as he read from a folder. He was dressed for work in a blue shirt and tie. The dark circles were still there, although not quite as pronounced.

"Hi," I rasped. His head shot up, a look of relief flitting across his face.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty." He stood, moving to the edge of my bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Dry," was all I could manage to get out. Edward grabbed a plastic glass off the table next to my bed, and shook what sounded like ice out of a blue plastic pitcher. Turning back to the bed, he slipped his hand under my shoulders to elevate me slightly.

"Just take one, and let it melt, okay?" He tipped the glass against my lips, and I opened my mouth to catch a disk of ice. The cold was startling at first, but once it started to melt it felt heavenly.

"Better?" He inquired as he sat down on the edge of my bed and took my hand. I nodded, not wanting to speak for fear of choking on the ice cube. The motion set off alarms everywhere. My head and muscles both screaming in protest.

"Do you know where you are?" Edward asked. I noticed that his hand had shifted to my wrist, and he was looking over my shoulder at something.

I shook my head no gently. The motion wasn't as painful as the up and down of a yes, but it still hurt.

"Pain is a good sign, but try not to move. You are at St Guy's. You've been here for a week." He held the glass up. "Are you ready for some more ice?"

"Yes." A whisper was all I could get out, but it hurt infinitely less than a nod. Edward slipped his arm behind me, and easing me up again, held the glass to my lips so that I could catch another disk. He eased me back gently before kissing my forehead and smoothing my hair away from my face.

"I'm going to go get your doctor. Try to stay awake for him, okay? He'll want to check you out and ask you some questions, and I need you to stay conscious for them."

I let out a shaky breath, and slowly nodded, feeling a bit less woozy. Edward stared at me for a long moment, an expression on his face that I couldn't understand. Then he smiled and leaned his forehead against mine.

"God I missed you," he whispered before straightening up. He ran the back of his hand across my cheek. "Be right back, okay?"

I couldn't tell if it was a question to me or an affirmation to him. I moved my head up and down once to indicate that I understood; wincing in pain once he was out of sight.

With Edward out of the room, I was able to take in my surroundings better. Small speakers sat on the table next to my bed, along with a few books and a picture of my dad. The table in the corner held vases of roses, daffodils and tulips. My backpack sat in a chair against the far wall.

I tried to shift in the bed, and felt something roll off my lap. Reaching down next to my leg, I found a familiar lumpy object.

"Your doctor will be by in a few minutes." Edward stood in the doorway, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Who brought Bubba?" My voice sounded hoarse, like I had a cold or bronchitis.

Edward sighed and ran his hand through his hair before making his way across the room to sit down in the chair. He took the stuffed dog from my hand.

"So that's what his name is. Rose brought it a few nights ago."

I smiled and closed my eyes. My father had bought him for me when I was little. "My dad..."

"I talked to your dad; he sounds like a nice man. Not the introduction I would have liked to have had, but it's one more thing that I can cross off my Bella Swan mystery list."

I was too tired to ask him why he called my dad, so I let it go. I just smiled and turned my hand over, slowly curling my fingers in as a non verbal request for contact. He slipped his hand underneath, lifting it up so he could kiss the inside of my palm.

"He's been incredibly worried about you, but Rose and I have been keeping him updated. He's not a man of many words, is he?"

We were interrupted by my doctor, who shooed Edward away while he checked my pulse, eye responsiveness and asked me some basic questions.

He also gave me a run down of my injuries. I was admitted with a cerebral contusion from a fall down the steps. The swelling had put too much pressure on my brain; therefore the decision had been made to keep me in an induced coming as a way to circumvent the risk of serious brain damage. I'd been out for six days while medication had been used to slow my circulation and decrease the swelling. Beyond the head injury, I had six stitches in my forehead, just above my right temple and another twelve stitches in my right forearm. I also had scrapes and bruises all over my body, and a badly sprained left ankle.

It was surreal, listening to him rattle of injury after injury. I didn't remember a single thing. The closest thing I could compare it to would be blacking out after drinking too much, and waking up in a strange place.

All in all, the doctor appeared to be happy with my responses, and indicated that he wanted to run some additional tests before making a further assessment.

Aside from the blow to the head, I had been pretty damn lucky, he informed me. They would run tests, including a full scan to assess how my brain was healing. He also warned of side effects to a head injury, such as memory loss, radical swings in emotion, and potential for some fine motor impairment.

He could tell from my reaction that I wasn't processing it all, and promised to answer questions throughout testing. It was all so incredibly overwhelming.

The minute the doctor was gone, Edward was back in my room.

"How're you feeling?" He asked. His hand went immediately to my wrist, his eyes to what I would assume to be a clock n the wall.

"Tired." I whispered as I tried to pull my wrist back. I'd already gone through one circuit of poking and prodding, and didn't want anymore.

Edward gave me a sheepish smile and let go of my wrist. "Sorry, learned habit."

"S'okay Doc." I gave a weak smile and let my eyes fall shut again. "Just need a cuddle."

"Somehow I don't think the medical board recognizes that as a sanctioned treatment." Edward teased me. It was a relief to hear him more relaxed.

"Holistic," I replied, too tired to say anything more. I felt his arm slip under me again, gently sliding me over before climbing into the bed. Resting on his side, Edward bent his arm to support his head. His other hand slipped underneath mine to rest on my stomach. I squeezed it, too tired to talk anymore, but unwilling to fall asleep yet.

"Do you want to hear it all?" Edward asked tentatively. I squeezed his hand once, hoping he would understand it as a yes.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

It was hard to pull cogent thoughts together. I'd have a flash of something, and then it would be gone. I focused for a few minutes, trying to remember.

"You were muddy."

Edward focused on our hands, not meeting my gaze.

"You fell down a flight of steps after trying to protect Rose from Royce King. Now that I am over being worried sick about you, I am torn between yelling at you for being stupid enough to go head to head with someone twice your size or loving you even more for being so brave. Maybe it should be a little bit of both."

I tried to recall an interaction with Royce, but nothing was there.

"Rose?" I whispered, unable to raise my voice any higher.

"She's fine. She was knocked around a bit, and is staying with Emmett until her new flat is available. He didn't think it was safe to stay in the current one."

My brain was too foggy to process it all. I had vague flashes of our building, of Rose shouting. And memories that I shouldn't have. Rose crying and saying over and over that she's sorry. Someone with a British accent talking about Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. Dirty jokes about vicars.

"What are you smiling about?" Edward asked.

I could feel his breath on me cheek. It felt good to have him close. I was tired, and I was sore, but I felt safe.

"Dirty jokes."

I heard him chuckle. "You remember those, eh? Guess it's a good thing I didn't tell you anything incriminating. Could have gotten kind of dodgy, couldn't it?"

"Tell me," I whispered.

"Tell you something dirty? I think your voice is sexy like that," Edward teased.

"Incriminating. Tell me." It was difficult to get out more than a few words, but I managed to make my point.

"Okay." He was quiet for a minute before answering. "I moved all of your things to my flat."

"Go home?" I asked. I was struggling to stay awake, but I needed answers.

"You? Me? I guess I can answer both. They'll keep you for a few more days. My professional hypothesis is that they'll want to do another scan to assess the healing process. If that comes through okay, they'll monitor you for a few days to gauge your progress. I would think they would release you by the end of the week. You'll stay with me so that I can keep an eye on you until you're back up and around. Then we can talk about what comes next. As for me, I pop in throughout the day, and then stick around at night until they kick me out. A few of the nurses have taken pity on me when I've fallen asleep in here, but for the most part, I've been here as much as I can."

I squeezed Edward's hand in acknowledgement. I was too tired to talk any more.

"Get some rest, Bella. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

It was the last thing I remember him saying before drifting off into sleep.

The next morning brought a flurry of activity including a full scan to verify that all the swelling was down and that injury site was recovering as expected. Edward stayed with me through as much of it as possible, insisting that I must be okay, because I cracked a joke about my brain already being scrambled when the doctor came in.

I was slowly regaining my strength and voice, and was more aware of what was going on around me. I was still unable to recall of the events leading up to my hospitalization, and peppered Edward with questions. He gave short, terse answers regarding Rose and Royce, and guaranteed me that I wouldn't have any issues with Royce King again.

The doctor stopped by my room late in the afternoon on what I believe was Tuesday, and told me that if I continued to make progress, I would likely be released in a few days. He advised me to take it easy and allow my body time to heal, reinforcing that it might takes months before I was truly back to normal.

My strength and appetite slowly returned. I was able to get up and move around, although more than a few minutes of walking wiped me out. I finally managed to talk to my father, who was equal parts relieved and furious at me. He and Edward had a lot in common there. Dad didn't bring up Edward, but I knew it would only be a matter of time. Apparently they had spent a lot of time on the phone together, and Dad had given Edward the right to oversee my treatment in London. I was surprised at first, but Dad explained it as a logical choice. Almost half a day's time difference necessitated that someone here look out for me. I didn't ask him why he didn't choose Rose. I didn't need to, it was apparent in his voice.

He apologized for not coming over; a heart attack a few years ago made it almost impossible for him to fly long distances safely. I didn't begrudge him that. I loved my father; knowing that he was concerned and that he'd been in constant touch meant enough.

Once I could keep down real food, and could get to and from the bathroom without incident, my doctor hinted that it was time for me to go home. The thought of a shower, clothes that didn't tie in the back, and a comfy bed sounded just short of heaven, and made me want to move things along that much faster. Edward watched me like a hawk, popping in multiple times throughout the day to make sure that I was behaving 'as the proper patient should.'

No one else had come by to see me. I had the sneaking suspicion that they had all be told to stay away until I had my strength back. While I knew that it was the right decision, it made me feel like I was encased in bubble wrap. A delicate keepsake on the top shelf of a display cabinet that couldn't be touched or interacted with for fear of breaking it.

It made me long for the outside world, my friends, my life. When Emmett showed up with flowers on Wednesday evening, I felt like I was being granted an audience with the pope.

"Hey there, you are almost back to looking human." Emmett called from the doorway, a large bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.

"Not that I don't appreciate it, but what is it with people and flowers?"

He looked down at the bouquet in his hands, "I thought women loved flowers?"

"We do, Em. But I have a bit of an over abundance right now." I pointed at the table in the corner, "I have enough flora to build a float for the Rose Parade thanks to Alice. I think she cleaned out the florist."

"Then these will be in good company." He set the flowers down on the end of the bed and pulled up a chair. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Not quite ready to go into Mixed Martial Arts, but I will have a cool scar on my arm that looks like a snake."

Emmett shook his head. "You amaze me. Are you not afraid of anything?"

"I'm afraid of a lot of things, Emmett. I just don't think sometimes."

"Yeah, well, fortunately, the grizzly that you got into it with didn't think much either. It could have been a lot worse."

We stuck to the subject of my injuries and recovery. We were both dancing around the cause of the accident, with no clear way to break through.

"How is she, Emmett?" I finally gave in, wanting to know, but strangely afraid of the answer.

He sighed and took my hand. "You know Rose. At first she was putting up a brave front. Worried about you more than anything. Once we knew you were stable and out of the woods, she broke down and told me everything. I can't say that I am proud of some of the things that I said to her, but they needed to get out there. The good news is that she wasn't hurt, and she's working through things one day at a time."

Emmett paused as he reached up to trace a finger over the gauze covering my upper arm.

"She really wanted to come, but I think she's afraid of what you'll say. She blames herself for what happened, and is afraid that you will too."

I blew out a breath and shifted in my bed so that I could see Emmett better.

"I'm not mad at her Emmett. Mad at the situation? Sure, but she couldn't control what Royce did, so it would be wrong to be angry at her alone."

Emmett nodded as if he understood. "Did Edward tell you about King?"

Edward and I had spoken about my fall, but not the details surrounding it. I shook my head slowly, still trying to get comfortable with slow controlled motions.

"The police questioned him, but it was his word against Rose's. When I tried to back up her story, he started squawking assault claims at me, and got his lawyers involved. Before it could go anywhere, the police declared it an accident and he was on a plane to Tokyo with some cock and bull story about keeping an eye on the family investments."

"He got off?" I sat up a bit straighter in my bed. The quick motion shooting pain through my body.

"Take it easy, Bella. You aren't ready for that yet." Edward stood in the doorway to my room. His gaze was leveled on Emmett, and he didn't look happy.

Emmett stood, brushing the creases out of his khakis. "I should let you rest. I'll tell Rose that you are doing better. When you feel strong enough, I know she'd like to hear from you."

He turned to leave the room, stopping to quickly clap Edward on the shoulder before exiting.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked as he sat down in the chair Emmett had just vacated.

"Yeah, although I am really getting tired of answering that question." I glanced at the door. "Why do I have a feeling that there is something that Emmett didn't tell me?"

He smiled and placed a duffle bag on my bed, avoiding my question.

"I brought you something to make you feel better."

I reached for the top, but he pushed my hand away. "Not until I leave. I want you to take your time with it."

Moving it to the table beside my bed, he nudged me to scoot over so that he could crawl in bed with me.

"I have the green light to take you home tomorrow."

I sighed in appreciation. "That is the best news I could have gotten. Thank you."

"I have the flat all ready for you. Lots of DVD's and food to fatten you back up. Jasper even dropped by some books on the off chance that you want to work on your dissertation."

My dissertation. I hadn't thought about it since waking up in the hospital. My eyes darted to the chair on the far side of the room that held my backpack.

"Don't worry. Jasper called your advisor to let him know that you had been in an accident."

"Why did he do that?"

Edward looked down at our clasped hands, as if uncomfortable with the question.

"I didn't know if you were subject to the traditional school cycle, and didn't want you to miss out on your chance if you were in the hospital. I knew you were just at hard edit and proof reading stage, and I was going to have Jasper take care of it so that you were ready to go. But apparently the timing isn't an issue, so everything should be okay."

The sincerity of his words brought tears to my eyes. I'd never had anyone do anything so complete unselfish for me.

"What are you crying for?" Edward asked as he pushed my hair back from my face.

"I can't believe you did that for me. I don't know what to say…" Thoughts whirled around in my head. The fact that he cared so much; that he would help me complete something that could potentially take me away from London floored me. It was truly selfless.

"The sooner you get it done, the sooner we can get on with our lives. I'm just being logical, Bella."

A knot had formed in my throat, making it difficult to talk. "I don't know what to say."

"Just say thank you, and be dressed and ready to go by noon tomorrow, okay?" He kissed my forehead and stood up. "Call me if you need me to bring something else to wear. I put in what I thought would be easiest, but can always bring something else."

Edward flipped off the light and pulled the door halfway shut with instructions to get some rest. But sleep wouldn't come. Instead, I laid in the dark, trying to make sense out of the chaos of my thoughts. My emotions were too close to the surface, and made it impossible to be objective about our conversation. I wanted to dissect it, to understand why I felt such sadness in Edward's actions. But I didn't have the strength to go there.

Flipping on the small light over my bed, I reached for the duffle bag that Edward had left on the table. Unzipping the top, I found a black leather book resting on top of my clothes. There was no title on the spine, and when I opened the pages, I was surprised to find hand writing as opposed to type. The script was familiar, and there was a date at the top of the page from late January.

A note was paper clipped to the first page:

_All your answers regarding the accident and what happened after are here. I thought it would be easier for you to read them at your own pace than ask._

_There are things that are in here that predate the accident. My thoughts, rambles, whatever you want to call them. I thought reading them might help too. Whether we talk about them or not is entirely up to you. There is nothing in here that I wouldn't say to you now, therefore there is nothing to fear._

_These are my transparent thoughts. They are all yours._

_Edward_

I pulled the note paper and clip off the page, and raised my bed up into a more comfortable position. Then I started with the first page of Edward's journal. The story of us.

_It started out like any other day. Process, focus, structure. Repeat._


	31. Chapter 31

_There are such beings as vampires, some of us have evidence that they exist. Even had we not the proof of our own unhappy experience, the teachings and the records of the past give proof enough for sane peoples._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 24 - Deserved Better**

By three on Friday afternoon, I was settled on the couch in Edward's flat, propped up with pillows and wrapped in a blanket.

"I cracked my head, Edward, I don't have a cold. There is no need for me to be wrapped up like I have a fever," I protested as I tried to unwind myself.

"Indulge me. I feel the need to be overly protective." He'd been hovering over me ever since we left the hospital. It was endearing, but was starting to make me a bit claustrophobic.

"It's 70 degrees in here and you have me bundled in fleece. You are a sweetheart for worrying but I am not going to slip into hypothermia, Edward."

He stood over me, a curious expression on his face.

"What? Why that look?" I inquired, wondering what could have stopped him in his tracks.

"Will it sound foolish to say I don't know what to do?"

There was a vulnerability in his voice that made me smile. He always expected to have the answers to everything.

I held out my hand, palm up in invitation. "Would it help if I told you what I'd like to do?"

"Isabella…." His reply was stern.

"Stop it you deviant. I just want to curl up in your lap, okay?" I wiggled my fingers. "Please?"

Edward ran his hands through his hair before sitting down on the couch with a defeated sigh. I scrambled over the pillows to sit down in his lap, tucking my head in between his neck and shoulder.

"Much better," I sighed as I closed my eyes. It felt good to be out of the hospital, away from the constant interruptions and prying eyes. I let myself relax, breathing in slowly, enjoying the warmth and security of simply being together.

"Thank you," I whispered against Edward's chest.

"For what?"

He leaned his cheek against the top of my head, and wove his fingers together with mine.

"For this. For taking care of me. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me Bella." Edward kissed the top of my head. "Rest. We've got plenty of time to talk; you need sleep."

"We've already lost so much time though, Edward." I tried to argue, but he'd have none of it.

"A few hours of sleep won't hurt. We can talk when you wake up."

His free hand made slow smooth circuits up and down my back, helping me to relax into sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, it was dark. We were stretched out, my back pressed against the couch, Edward's head resting against my chest, his arm wrapped securely around my waist.

I didn't move, enjoying the relative quiet and peace of his even breathing. He had to be exhausted, keeping up his normal work schedule and hovering over me in his every spare minute.

That knowledge, combined with what I'd read in his journal weighed heavily on me. We'd traveled such a winding path to get to this point, and I struggled with overwhelming feelings that I couldn't define. At a base level, I was awed and intimidated by the words that I'd read last night in Edward's journal. To know how unconditional and all encompassing his feelings were made me feel selfish and unworthy.

I couldn't help but think back to our discussion on this same couch about our future. We'd both avoided any type of conversation about anything long term, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. Or at least that's what I'd thought at the time.

In hindsight, I'd been the one who had dodged the conversation. Edward had asked honest answers, and I'd avoided them. In some ways, it was just as bad as how he'd dodged my questions that day at the zoo.

At the time, my decision had made sense, but I was quickly coming to the realization that it wasn't fair to anyone.

The problem was that I didn't have an answer. I needed to finish my dissertation and find a job. I could only stay legally in the UK for six months without a visa. No job, no visa, and back to the states I would go. It wouldn't re realistic to expect Edward to go anywhere. He had a new career and was close to his family. I couldn't expect him to uproot his life in London for me. It would be yet another selfish expectation on my part.

It stung to realize that I'd taken on the role of Mike in this relationship. I was the selfish one, not considering anyone but myself. Edward shouldn't be the only one who sacrificed.

Which meant that if there was going to be an 'us,' it would be up to me to make the move. It wasn't as simple as relocating from Washington to Chicago. I'd have to leave my country, my family, my small group of friends behind. Other than a handful of people, I didn't know anyone London. No family, no roots. No support system. What was that lovely quote, I'd be a stranger in a strange land.

It would have been easy to throw caution to the wind and say that this is where I belonged. Part of me wanted to, desperately. But I also needed to be realistic. My bank account was dwindling quickly, and I had no clue what this hospital stay would do to my financial status. I didn't have any viable job prospects; it didn't matter if we were talking here or in the states.

In a way, the whole thing was depressing. I was twenty seven years old. What had I accomplished in my life? All I knew was school. Other than being a TA, I'd never held anything other than typical college jobs like retail or food service.

Yes, Edward had made the comment about having plenty of money, that he would take care of me. But was that really even an option? If I stayed here, what would that mean for the path I'd planned for myself? If I couldn't find a viable job, would it lead me to resent him? Even worse, would he resent me?

There was no clear line of demarcation between what I needed and what I wanted. I didn't know how to separate my need to see things through with my desire never to be anywhere but with him. It was all a tangled mess, and I didn't have a clue as to how to unravel it all.

My only beacon, my true north, was the man sleeping next to me. I couldn't begin to fathom my life without him. We were too intertwined now. Being anywhere but here was not an option. Yet as much as I needed to be with him, I also needed to complete something for myself. I deserved that.

I felt Edward move, his arm tightening around my waist.

One more day, I told myself. You have one more day to enjoy this. And then you need to have an honest conversation about what will be. You aren't being fair to him, and he deserves that.

Pushing the melancholy aside, I slipped my arms around Edward's neck and buried my face in his hair.

"Believe it or not, I am hungry, and I really have to go to the bathroom," I whispered, not wanting to let go.

"Me too, but I don't want to move. I like it here."

There was nothing unique or special about his words, but they made the knot in my chest grow a bit larger. He'd mentioned something in the last journal entry about there being no me, only us. I felt the exact same way, and yet I'd never had the courage to tell him that. He deserved better than I gave.

"Edward, I…"

A knock at the door interrupted me before I could say anything more. Edward groaned and sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"I hate drop by's," he mumbled as he stood and tugged at the bottom of his oxford. It was wrinkled and slightly askew from our time curled up on the couch, and the image for some reason tugged at my heart. He'd done so much for me, given so much, that it was physically apparent.

My resolve of one more day suddenly felt childish. He put me ahead of everything, even himself. Not doing the same was selfish on my part.

Sitting up slowly, I pulled my hair away from my neck as Edward opened the door. I wished that we could have told whoever it was to go away, that now wasn't the time.

Rose stood on the threshold, a small bag in her hands. She looked sheepishly at Edward before shifting her gaze to me.

No one spoke for a long moment.

"I brought some things that you didn't get when you were over. I thought that Bella might need them."

Edward took the bag from her wordlessly, turning to allow her into the apartment.

Rose stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with a non existent thread on her cuff. Edward looked from her to me, as if assessing whether he needed to intervene. As if picking up on the undercurrent running between us, he grabbed his keys off the end table.

"I'll just go pick up some takeout. Any requests?"

I could tell that he didn't want to leave, but that he knew we needed time alone. Yet again, my needs above his.

"No, I'm okay." I gave him a smile in reassurance. I needed to deal with Rose too, and it would buy me some time to try and figure everything else out.

"I'll have my mobile. Call if you need me, okay?" It was his way of asking to stay. But I needed to do this.

I gave him a small nod of reassurance, which he reluctantly accepted before closing the door behind him.

Rose had moved to the edge of the couch, where she stood twisting her hands in front of her.

"Hi." I extended the greeting as an olive branch. The relief in Rose's eyes was immediate.

"How are you feeling?"

'I'm okay. A little sore, but okay." I hesitated, unsure as to how to continue. "How are you?"

Rose looked back down at her hands, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

"I've been better. I wanted to come see you after you woke up. I did actually, but Edward didn't want me upsetting you until you were stronger, and I knew he was right."

I nodded, neither in agreement or disagreement, simply acknowledging that I understood.

"Listen, Bella, I can't tell you how sorry I am. This whole thing is my fault…" She started.

I laughed and gingerly ran my hand through my hair. My scalp was still a bit tender, and it didn't jive well with my nervous habit.

"Yes Rose, a lot of it was your fault. But you can't take it back, so what it the point of belaboring it?" My words weren't harsh, just factual.

She wouldn't meet my eyes, and continued to knot and unknot her hands. For some reason it reminded me of Edward sitting in front of the fire at Dunsley Hall. Steeple, relax. Steeple, relax. I'd heard him out, accepted his explanation. He'd taught me that life wasn't always black and white, that there were often facts that we didn't have that would color a decision. I needed to give her the same courtesy.

"Look, Rose, I have a lot of conflicting feelings right now, but it doesn't change the fact that I love you, and I am glad you are okay. We could dissect everything that happened, but it won't change things. Just give me some time, and it will be okay."

Sighing, Rose sat down in an easy chair next to the couch. "That's what Emmett told me, but I needed to hear it from you. I also needed to explain some things."

"I don't need you to explain anything. At least not right now. In time…"

"I changed my statement. I told the police that I was confused and upset, and that once I calmed down I realized that I had misunderstood what happened. That's why the charges were dropped. They believe it was an accident."

Shocked into silence, I scrambled to digest her statement. It made the news clippings I'd found in Edward's journal make sense now. The questioning, the hasty dropping of charges followed by Royce's sudden departure. He didn't get off. Rose let him get away.

After everything he'd done, he was going to get off without even a slap on the wrist.

"Royce threatened to go after Emmett. He called me at work, I didn't know who it was, or I wouldn't have answered," Rose continued, her voice was shaking. "He told me that if I continued to say that he assaulted you, that he caused your fall, he would make me pay. Then he threatened to file charges against Emmett for assault. Royce's family could make Emmett's life miserable, and I couldn't let that happen."

She was openly crying now. "This was all my fault. You getting hurt, Emmett going after Royce. It was because of me and my stupidity, my need to be wanted. None of this would have happened if I would have listened to you in the first place."

I couldn't speak. What would I say? That I was angry at her for letting Royce off the hook? That I was proud of her for putting Emmett ahead of her own needs for once? That I was furious at her for not thinking about my feelings in all of this?

But doing so would have made me a hypocrite. She was just as knotted up as I was, and she understood that there was no easy answer for the dilemma she found herself in. It didn't mean that I supported her decisions, but I could at least admit that I empathized with her situation.

We'd both been selfish in our actions. Those actions had a butterfly effect, and others were suffering because of it.

Rose had called me an emotional vampire once. She'd done it to shock me, but she hadn't been too far off base. The sad thing was, that It applied to both of us.

We didn't speak, didn't touch, didn't even look at each other. Rose sat and cried for a while longer, while I curled into myself on the couch, numb with confusion, anger, and sadness.

"Do you remember when you told me to be careful?" Rose's voice was hoarse from crying, "When we first moved here, and we were talking about Royce, I jokingly compared him to Arthur? You told me to be careful, that I could lose my head and I told you I had him under control? I was so focused on me, that I never stopped to think what could happen to anyone else. I'm sorry for that."

She stood, wiping the tears before moving towards the door. "I accepted the offer to extend my stay in London. I am moving into a new flat the middle of the month. There is room for you if you want it. I'd very much like you to be there, but if not, I understand."

Opening the door, Rose looked back over her shoulder at me. "I'm sorry, Bella. More than I can tell you."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. All of my emotions were too close to the surface, and I was afraid if I spoke, I might say something I'd regret.

The door clicked softly shut behind her.

Rose was gone.

I stood and made my way towards the bathroom, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to wash away the hospital, the memories, the sadness. The light over the sink in the bathroom was harsh, accentuating the bruises and shadows on the reflected at me in the mirror. I looked exactly like I felt. Pitiful.

Turning on the water, I stripped out of my clothes and studied the roadmap of bruises on my body. They had faded to an eerie greenish brown, and stood out in stark contrast to my fair skin. Once the stitches were removed, the red of the scar on my arm would stand out just as starkly. I may emotionally put all this behind me someday, but the physical reminders would always be there.

I slowly eased myself into the steaming water. It burned against my skin, and mixed with my tears as I frantically scrubbed at my skin. I could rub myself raw, but it wouldn't take anything away. The bruises would go away, the scars fade over time, but the impact had changed us all forever.

"Bella, are you okay?" Edward called thru the door.

There was nothing I could do, nothing I could change. I could scrub for all it was worth, but the damage was done. I dropped the wash cloth and turned off the water.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute."

Grabbing a towel from the rack by the tub, I dried off. The bruises were now complemented by rosy pink from the heat of the shower. The contrast was grotesque; like a child's drawing gone awry.

"I bought you a robe; it's on the back of the door. Why don't you wrap up and crawl in bed? I'll bring you some food."

I grabbed the robe from the hook and pulled it on. It was too big for me, and I had to roll the sleeves up a few times so that my hands weren't lost in the white terry cloth. But it was warm, and covered up the visible reminders of what had happened.

A lamp was on in Edward's room; one side of the bed turned down and waiting for me. Bubba lay on my pillow, threadbare and worn against the English cotton.

"He fits there," Edward observed from behind me. "Go crawl in bed."

I climbed in and pulled my knees to my chest. He set the tray he was carrying down in the center of the bed before climbing up next to me.

"We'll do an improvised picnic. I have soup, sandwiches and that disgusting sparkling water you like so much."

I watched him as he shifted things around on the tray. His shirt was still a wrinkled mess, and it looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

Edward had run himself into the ground for me. Moved my belongings into his home to keep me safe and to watch over me. Turned his life upside down for me. Everything he'd done, even since before the accident had been for me.

I could feel the tears start to build again. My doctor warned me that fluctuating emotions were a by product of my injury, and that I shouldn't panic; they would adjust over time. But I knew that the swings were giving me a clarity that I didn't have before, and that I needed to trust that clarity.

Edward sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to wipe away a tear. "What's wrong?'

I laughed and shook my head. What was wrong, what was right, it was all mixed up together and screaming to get out.

"Hey, Bella, come on…" Edward pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay, just let it out."

I shook my head again and reached up to wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. "I'm okay; just having a moment is all."

Edward tipped my chin up so that he could look directly in my eyes. I wasn't prepared for what I saw staring back at me.

Concern. Apprehension. Because of me.

He deserved better.

"What did Rose tell you?"

I wiped an eye with the back of my hand and took a deep breath. "About what happened with Royce. What she did."

Edward's narrowed, and I could see the anger simmering just below the surface.

"I see. Did she tell you why?'

I nodded my head, unable to say yes.

"She didn't think I would find out what happened, that Emmett wouldn't tell me." He continued quietly, anger accenting his commentary. "She was so focused on Emmett; she never stopped to think about you."

"Edward, we are all guilty of that in some way. Emmett went to help Rose; you stayed with me. Apparently I stood up to Royce. It's human nature."

"It may be human nature, but I refuse to let her selfishness hurt you anymore. Emmett and I have already discussed this, and he said the same to Rose. Her narcissism caused all of this, and then she goes and let's the bastard off. Some friend."

But it wasn't that black and white. Nothing in life seemed to be any more.

"Don't you understand, Edward? She let Royce go because she couldn't let Emmett get hurt. It wasn't about her, it was about Emmett."

He shook his head, refusing to concede the point. "It was selfish, Bella. She wanted Emmett, so she sacrificed your justice to keep him."

"Or maybe she knew that I would have done the same thing. Did you ever stop to think about that?"

He frowned in confusion. "I don't follow you."

"You said I stood up to Royce. If that is what I did, it must have been for a good reason. You do strange things for people you love."

We stared at each other, not speaking. The expression on Edward's face was heartbreaking; a mixture of hope and sadness.

"Edward, I would have done the same thing if I were in Rose's position. I couldn't let anything happen to you."

I brought my hands to his chest, finding that familiar spot over his heart. I had compared the beating of his heart to an anchor. But calling it an anchor was wrong. It didn't weigh me down. It gave me the strength to stand on my own, to find out who I was and what I could be.

It didn't hold me back. It gave me flight.

My fingers fanned out over his chest, focusing on the staccato of his heart beat.

"You hold that in the palm of your hand, you know that don't you?" Edward asked quietly.

The honesty and resignation in his tone were devastating.

"And you don't think it's the same for me?" I couldn't look up at him.

"Is it, Bella? You know exactly how I feel. And yet you keep me guessing."

I contracted my fingers, bunching the fabric of his shirt in my hand. I was tethering him to me, trying to hold on to him, if not literally than figuratively. I could feel his heartbeat increase a bit, but he didn't try to pull away.

I squeezed the material of the shirt in my hand a bit tighter, using it as a focal point as I spoke.

"I love you."

My declaration hung in the air between us, awkward in the silence.

"I know you worry that it's primarily sexual attraction with me, but it's not. I…"

"Look at me, Bella."

Edward's request was quiet, but firm. I swallowed, but couldn't look up. He brought his hand under my chin, forcing me to lift my head so that we were eye to eye.

"Say it again, please." He used his free hand to wipe away a tear as it slid down my cheek.

I took a deep breath, unable to look away. "I love you."

He smiled and wiped away another tear.

"You know, I am not a religious man, but I found myself making deals with God while I was waiting for you. I promised ridiculous things. I even begged. I just wanted you to come back to me. I guess he must have listened, because not only are you okay, but you told me the one thing that I wanted hear."

I swiped away another tear with the back of my hand. "If this is one of the byproducts of a head injury, it's getting damn old."

"But it gives me a chance to save the day. White knight and all that rubbish." Edward teased gently. His thumbs continued to wipe away the tears as they fell. I felt like I was incapable of stopping them.

"I don't have any answers." I needed to be honest, to lay it all out there. "I have no clue how to figure this out; I just know that it has to be with you."

"We'll find a way to figure it out." He kissed me gently, his hands cupping my face as if I might break. "Now you need to eat and get some rest. I want you to save your energy. I have a surprise for you tomorrow."

He released my face and lay back on the bed. "I know it's not Sunday morning, but I believe I wanted to stretch out in bed and watch the telly with you. What will it be?"

It was so ridiculously normal, so average. And yet it was the most perfect thing he ever could have said.

Because, to use Edward's words, it was everything and nothing, and that was all that mattered.


	32. Chapter 32

_Oh, friend John, it is a strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, and troubles. And yet when King Laugh come, he make them all dance to the tune he play._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 25 - Equilibrium**

While we had agreed to talk about what came next; living arrangements, my dissertation, us, we didn't revisit the topic. I continued to stay with Edward, bowing to the justification that it made the most sense. It would be easy to say that staying was the convenient thing, what with him going back and forth to the hospital, and the ability to easily get to and from the constant litany of doctor's appointments. But that wasn't the truth.

A large part of it was that I wasn't ready to be on my own, which would have been the case had I moved into Rose's flat. I was still experiencing side effects from the blow to my head, including equilibrium issues. It wasn't uncommon for me to get dizzy when I stood up, or judge the distance between things incorrectly. The bruises from my fall down the steps had started to fade, but were quickly being replaced by ones from table corners, door knobs, and once, backing up into the towel rack.

Very simply, I had become a klutz.

Edward assured me it was okay, that it was temporary, but it terrified me. My emotions were still volatile, and on top of that, my fine motor skills were off. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something else to go wrong with me.

My doctors kept telling me that I should be grateful, that my recovery was nothing short of miraculous. I knew they were right, and that I should listen, but every time I ran into something and then melted down in tears, it made that seed of doubt grow a bit more. I wanted to be normal again, to not trip over thin air. I wanted to be able to do things without the fear of breaking down crying or blowing up like an over-wrought thirteen year old girl.

On a sunny Saturday in May, one week after my release from the hospital and three weeks after my fall, Edward dropped me off at King's College. I'd been anxious to get back to work, as every day lost was precious time. Edward tried to convince me that it was better to wait, to let my body recover more before diving back in, but I was too close now. I needed, no; I wanted to get this done so that I could move on.

"I'm giving you three hours. I want you out here on the curb at noon. I have a surprise for you." Edward insisted as I opened the car door.

"Another one?" I laughed in amazement. He'd made good on his promise in the hospital. Surprises came daily. Big or small, they were never the same. He bought me a leather journal like his, only blue; he took me to the National Gallery; he brought home a telescope so that we could sit in the living room with the lights out and look at the stars.

He would pick out a constellation and then put me on the spot for the corresponding myth.

When I teased him about it, he insisted that he was merely sticking to his word. There were too many things that he wanted me to experience, and he wasn't going to waste time anymore.

"Do I get a hint today?" I asked before closing the door. The window rolled down, and he leaned over the console to look up at me.

"Absolutely not, and I know you will adore it. Right here. Noon."

"Yes, sir!" I snapped off a military salute. I heard him laugh as he pulled away from the curb. I turned toward the direction of the library, only to see a few co-eds staring longingly after Edward's car. I laughed to myself as I walked, listening to them behind me jabbering about hot Dr. Whitlock and his gorgeous brother-in-law.

The library felt like an old friend. My regular table was unoccupied, so I settled in and unpacked my laptop. I hadn't turned it on in weeks, and the sensation was both comforting and alien. Cracking my knuckles, I placed my fingers on the keys, ready to type in my password.

And froze.

I was drawing up a blank.

I'd had the same password since I bought this laptop two years ago. How could I not remember it? I wracked my brain, franticly. It wasn't there.

The panic that had been quietly nudging around at my subconscious for the past few days slammed in full force. What if I couldn't remember my password? What would I do? All of my files, the entire draft of my dissertation was on there.

I focused on slowing down my breathing, trying to force the panic back. Rose. Rose would know. She'd used my laptop in the past. I pulled my cell phone out of my bag and hit her number on speed dial.

Please answer, please answer, please be there.

"Rosalie Hale."

"Oh thank god!" My words were a jumbled rush as I jumped right in. "I am at the library, and I just powered up my laptop and I can't remember my password. I don't know what's happening to me and…"

"Shh, Bella, calm down. It's ok. Your password is ryder underscore sucks. You chose it because you thought she sucked in the movie, remember?"

"No, I don't remember Rose! I can't walk in a straight line, and I can't remember my password. I am an emotional fucking mess, and I don't know what the hell I am doing!"

"Shh, honey, it's okay. Where are you?"

I snuffled back tears and took a deep breath. "The library at King's College."

"Okay. Calm down. Type in the password I gave you."

I followed her directions, typing ryder_sucks. The screen blazed to life.

"Did it work?" She asked, concern apparent in her tone.

"Yes…" I couldn't catch my breath. The panic threatened to take me under.

"Bella, honey, it's okay. You are in." She hesitated, and I could hear the concern seeping through the phone line. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, Rose. The doctor says this will go away, but every little thing sets me off. I can't walk in a straight damn line, I am super emotional, and I couldn't remember my goddamn password! How the hell am I going to get this dissertation submitted in any reasonable time if I can't even function?"

"Bella, you have to calm down. You are going to make yourself sick."

Sick. What a joke. At this point, I'd take sick.

"You okay? Do you need me to come get you?"

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I can do this.

"No, I'm okay. I just feel so out of control right now."

"Take it easy, okay? I know you; you are probably elbows deep in metaphorical garlic and wooden stakes." She laughed at her own joke. "I'm here if you need me, okay?"

"Thanks, Rose. I'm sorry I melted down like that."

"It's okay, Bella. Seriously. I'm just glad that you called." She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something more. "I need to get back to work. Call if you need me, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks Rose." I ended the call and slipped the phone back in my bag. Resting my face in my hands, I took a few minutes to try and collect myself.

I can do this. I am okay. Take it easy, go slow.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself to focus on the task at hand. I opened up the word document that contained the intro to my dissertation, and spent the morning reading and making notes. I don't know if it was the time away or something else, but I felt like I was viewing my thoughts through someone else's perspective.

And it was good.

Really good.

It gave me a sense of hope; the logic was original, the way I had crafted the arc was engaging. I'd out done myself. And short of a hard proofreading and edit, it just might be ready to go.

Sitting back in my chair, I started to compile a to-do list in my head. Hard edits; submit to committee and schedule my defense session; call Angela to make sure it would be okay to stay with her and Ben; buy a ticket to Chicago.

When in Chicago, I'd have to start getting everything together. I had a safe deposit at the bank branch not far from our house that contained my worldly possessions. My birth certificate; my grandparent's engagement and wedding rings; my diplomas; some legal papers.

Everything I would need when I came back to London. My dad would have a fit, but deep down, I knew he'd be excited for me. He had always encouraged me to go live, do all the things that he'd never had a chance to do.

I was so immersed in my thoughts that I lost track of time. When I heard someone behind me call out to a friend about getting lunch, I peeked at the clock on my toolbar. 11:58. Crap. I was going to be late.

Powering down my computer, I shoved everything in my bag and walked quickly to the exit. The temperature was abnormally high for May, and students littered the lawn soaking up the sun.

Everything about the day was carefree, light hearted, including Edward waiting for me, car idling.

"I was starting to worry that you were going to stand me up," he teased as I climbed in.

"Sorry, I just lost track of time," I apologized. Edward leaned over the console, reaching out to pull the seatbelt across my body. He hovered over me, causing my heartbeat to pick up at his proximity. "What are you up to?"

He fastened my seatbelt, pausing for a moment to smile at me.

"I don't know what you mean, Isabella."

Settling back into my seat, I relaxed as he eased out into traffic. "I know better when you call me that. Am I going to get a hint as to where we are going?"

"That would take all of the fun out of it," Edward answered cryptically.

I let him drive, choosing to close my eyes to rest as he led me to where ever it was we were going.

"Bella…" Edward's voice called to me through a fog. "Wake up, sleepy head, we're here."

His hand traced the outline of my lips. I smiled, darting my tongue to catch the pad of his index finger before he withdrew. All contact since I'd come home from the hospital had been affectionate, but controlled. Edward had been walking on egg shells around me, so focused on my rest and mental state that he'd assumed an almost paternal stance around me.

"Who are you, and what you did to sweet little innocent Bella?" Edward teased as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "I don't know where this new found confidence is coming from, but I like it."

He'd been constantly reassuring me since the accident. How much stronger I seemed, more confident in what I wanted. At the same time, it felt like he had withdrawn from me a bit. It made me worry that, while the changes were positive, he liked the pre-accident version of me better. I wanted to say something, to ask if I'd done something wrong, but deep down I was afraid of what I might get for an answer.

Edward was the one person that I could always count on to be straight with me, and I hated knowing that he was treating me with kid gloves too.

I scanned our surroundings as he came around to my side of the car to open the door.

"Come on." It was all the answer I would get. He pulled me out of the car, closing the door behind me.

"Back to the scene of the crime, Dr. Masen?" I called to him as he threaded his way through throngs of children. "You might have some witnesses if you want a repeat performance of the car."

He pulled me forward to slip his arm around my shoulders. "Soon enough, Isabella. Maybe I'm just waiting for it to rain so I can rush you home."

"And tuck me into bed?" I hadn't meant to voice my frustrations, and immediately regretted my tone.

Edward stopped short; his arm dropping from my shoulders.

"I'm sorry, that was out of line…I just…" I just what? Tell him I love him, and he totally withdraws from me? That I am an emotional wreck who can't seem to get out of my own way? That I needed him, needed reassurance that I was still what he wanted?

But before I could continue, Edward grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of an aviary exhibit. The sign in the window indicated that it was under maintenance, and families passed it in search of lions, tigers and other legendary beasts.

He spun me around, my back up against a wall. His face inches from mine.

"Do you have any idea how frustrating the last week has been? Biding my time, making sure that you are getting enough rest, not over exerting yourself? All the while I am sleeping next to you, but not able to touch you like I want to? My god, Bella, you tell me you love me, and all I can do is peck you on the lips? What kind of bloody torture do you think that is?"

I couldn't help it, I started laughing. Edward looked at me confused.

"Oh, I'm sorry…It's just…" I continued to laugh, struck by the irony of it all. "The first time I slept with you, I beat myself up for being a whore. And ever since I've come home from the hospital, I've felt like you have this whole angel complex with me. It's confusing as hell, and I can't stand it!"

I continued to laugh, my sides aching with the effort. Edward's eyebrow was raised in curiosity.

"Are you done now?"

Biting my lip, I nodded yes.

"Then let me make this absolutely transparent. Do you remember what happened the last time we were here?"

He stepped in closer, so that there was hardly any space between us. "Do you, Isabella?"

I swallowed and nodded in acknowledgement. Edward reached up to run a finger down my neck, dipping down into the v of my t-shirt.

"Do you remember how desperate we were to get back to my flat?"

I nodded again, my breath starting to come in ragged bursts.

"That was nothing." He grabbed my hand turning it so that he can kiss the inside of my wrist. "I've got a few weeks to make up for, and I will assure you that that by the end of the day, you won't be using anything remotely resembling 'angelic.' Are we clear about that?"

He dropped my hand and closed the space between us to graze my jaw with his lips.

"Edward, I…' He cut me off, his mouth on mine, his tongue teasing at my lower lip. I responded immediately, trying to pull him in. I could feel him smile before stepping back.

"Just building anticipation." He tugged me out onto the path, weaving through bodies.

"Come on, you need to see a few things we didn't make it to last time."

He led me through the zoo, giving a running commentary on the animals that would have mortified any zoo keeper. Mating habits, odd little facts that were loaded with innuendo. Every statement, no matter how innocent would be accompanied by some action or gesture guaranteed to throw me off balance. Whispering in my ear, a kiss on the back of my neck or hand. A look that clearly communicated intent.

I was thoroughly wound up and on edge as we made our way through an exhibit on tropical sea life. Trying to get a handle on myself, I focused on the giant fish swimming past. I pressed my hand against the cold glass to mirror the posture of the starfish on the other side, focusing on the gold as a way to center myself. A large blue fish swam by, and I abandoned the starfish to follow its path with my index finger.

"Did you never go to the zoo as a child?" Edward's voice was low in my ear, his body pressed up against mine. "You exhibit such a sense of wonder and awe at the simplest things. If I didn't know better, I'd think that you'd never seen an octopus."

I followed the path of as an octopus as it glided past, tentacles spanning out elegantly.

"Yes, I went to the zoo and the aquarium, thank you very much. I just appreciate the simplicity of nature. Sometimes the simplest things are the most beautiful, and it's hard not to be awed by it."

"This is why I like bringing you to places like this. You watch everything with such wonder, which allows me watch you the same way."

His fingers ghosted along the back of my neck, flicking my ponytail, and then disappearing.

"Edward…" His words reduced me to nothing. There was something so simple, so base between us. Our lives were ridiculously complex, yet it was the simplicity in our interactions, our reactions that tied us so tightly together. Take away the trappings of humanity, the gentrification that comes from leading a civilized life. At the simplest level, we were tied together in a way that neither of us could break. It wasn't logical, nor was it practical.

"Do you know how hard it's been to respect your need to heal, Isabella?" Edward kissed the back of my neck. "I come home and find you in my kitchen making something to eat, or curled up in my bed asleep, and I want to claim you, make you

mine. I know you aren't a possession, and you deserve to be treated better than that, but it doesn't change the reactions that I have to you."

His hand snaked around my waist, palm pressed against my stomach. I was not going to survive much more of this, and I had a sneaking suspicion that when we left the zoo, it would be on his terms, not mine.

"Do you know why I always kiss you on your neck?" I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin, his lips gently grazing against my jugular. "I can feel your pulse pick up. Even early on when you pushed me away verbally, your body responded otherwise. It gave me the confidence to keep going. You tried so hard to be logical, and yet your heartbeat always gave you away. It gave me hope."

Edward didn't release me, yet he didn't push any further. He'd been so gentle, so considerate since bringing me home from the hospital. I loved that side of him, but I loved this too. The push, the antagonism had infuriated me at first, but I'd come to accept that it was part to what we were.

"Tell me what is going through your head, Isabella." Edward began to trace slow circles over my stomach, low enough to make clear his intention, but not anything that would be seen as inappropriate if we were being watched.

I laughed and dropped my head back against Edward's shoulder. "I missed this."

"Missed what?" He kissed my neck again, his tongue tracing over my pulse point.

"You. Us. This…" He sucked gently on the same spot, and my knees gave slightly. "When you do this…"

"I'm just telling you how I feel, Isabella." I could hear the mocking tone of his words. He was playing with me.

"You are baiting me, Edward. You know what it does, and you are doing it intentionally."

"Maybe I do, and maybe I am. But just for argument's sake, why don't you tell me what it does?"

His hand continued the slow circuit, the tension sparking between us. I gasped quietly as his hand slipped up underneath my t-shirt to stroke my bare skin.

"Are you going to tell me, or should I stop?"

"Don't stop." The words were out of my mouth before I could think. I was desperate for him to continue.

"Then tell me what you want."

My hand dropped to his leg, my fingers clutching at frayed edge of his khaki shorts.

"I like when you push me like this. It scares me a bit, but I like it." My words were shaky. The admission made me feel vulnerable, but I knew that he would never use it against me maliciously. "The things you say…"

"Really, Isabella? So you like knowing that I think about you? That right now, I'd very much like to find a dark corner where no one could find us, and have my way with you? You like being pushed out of that safe zone, don't you?"

"Yes." I kept my eyes closed, closing out the sounds around us.

He chuckled, his hand never stopping the slow circuit. "Very well then, I'll give you a choice. We can continue with our day, maybe even return to the scene of the crime, if you will. I know exactly which display I had you pinned against, and I can think of one or two things I might like to do to you there. Or we can just skip to the end and I can take you home. You tell me what you want."

I let go of his shorts, and turned to look Edward in the eye. He wore an amused expression, as if me being flustered was the most entertaining thing in the world.

I grabbed the fabric of his polo shirt and used it as leverage to push up on tip toe. His eyebrow rose a bit, as if intrigued by my action.

When I was close enough, I nipped as his earlobe. "What do I want? I want you. Take me home, and the minute that door closes, I want you."

I kissed the edge of his jaw. "I love you."

Edward slipped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me in tight to him. We stood rooted to the spot like that for a long moment.

"Those are the magic words. Come on." He led me away from the glass. "And not a minute too soon, I don't think I could have handled any more of what I was dishing out."

Our walk back to the car wasn't as frantic as the first visit here. We were both eager to get home, but this time we knew what would happen once we got there. There was no need to let uncertainty cloud our actions.

Edward got us back to the flat in record time, and the minute the door closed, he scooped me up and carried me back to his bedroom.

"As much as I would have liked to start this in the hallway, there are practical matters at hand. We really need to get you on the pill or something. Responsibility really puts a damper on spontaneity."

He sat me down gently on the bed, and tugged his shirt off. I reached out to pop the button on his shorts as he grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled it over my head. In a matter of seconds, all of Edward's clothes were gone, and he was tugging the last of my clothing down my legs. I stretched out to grab a condom from the bedside drawer when I felt his lips on my knee.

"Edward, no…" I was too wound up, I didn't want to wait.

"Shhh...trust me." He kissed my knee again. Then the outside of my thigh. I propped myself up on my elbows to look down at him.

He was kissing my bruises. The faint ones that remained from my accident. The newer, darker ones that came from my equilibrium issues.

He continued to kiss every scrape, every discoloration as he moved his way up my body. His fingers followed suit, ghosting innocently over the injury points before moving on to tease other areas of my body. The combination was a dizzying sensation of raw emotion and absolute and utter physical desire.

"Did you ever find in your research that the best spot to take blood from someone is right here?

His lips smoothed across a long dark bruise, stopping to suck on a sensitive spot on the inside of my thigh.

"Why, are you going to drink my blood, Edward?" I gasped as his teeth grazed over the artery.

"I actually had something other than blood in mind." With just the slightest shift of his head, he made good on his inference, his tongue gently probing and stroking.

My hands dug into the sheets, grounding myself against the overwhelming sensations that pulled at me, threatening to drag me under. His hands wrapped around behind my hips, cradling them as I writhed underneath him.

"Let go, Isabella. You don't always need to be in control. I won't let you fall." Edward's breath was hot against my skin, encouraging me to relax. To trust him. He'd more than earned my trust.

I let go of the sheets, curling my hands into fists and loosing myself as Edward pulled me further and further under his control. A momentary glimmer of panic hit as my orgasm overtook me, but something in my reaction must have alerted Edward.

"Relax." He kissed the inside of my thigh as his fingers took the place of his tongue. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere. Let go, Bella."

He continued to talk to me as I came back down, telling me how beautiful I was to watch, how badly he wanted me. When I managed to catch my breath, he began to work his way up my body, kissing the remainder of my bruises and scrapes. When he was eye level, he retrieved the packet I had grasped in my hand.

He paused to kiss the scar on my forehead. "I thought I was going to lose you, but you came back. You are mine now, forever, you realize that, don't you?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

He quickly tore open the packet, and I closed my eyes, remembering how I fumbled the first time I tried putting one on him. His comments about spontaneity and the practicality were enough of a nudge. Next time I was at the hospital, I'd have to make an extra appointment.

Edward's fingers found my hip, and gently pulled me onto my side, my leg draped over his hip. His fingers trailed up and down my leg, setting off goose bumps.

Shifting my leg, I pulled us closer together, desperate to push forward. Edward understood, rolling onto his back to pull me with him. His hands held onto my hips as he slowly pushed inside of me.

Dropping my head to his shoulder, I kissed his neck.

"I love you, Edward. " I kissed his neck again, trying to reinforce what felt so inconsequential to say. He arms tightened around me, pulling me closer into him, but not limiting my movement. I led. I set the pace, letting my actions demonstrate what I

repeated over and over. I needed to make him understand, to know how much I meant what I said.

Edward slipped his hand behind my leg, pulling it up so that my knee came to rest against his hip. The change in angle was just enough to push me over the edge. I gasped as the sensations claimed me. I vaguely registered Edward calling out my name as his fingers dug into my hips.

We lay tangled up together, unwilling to move, to break the spell. I kissed his shoulder, tucking my head into his chest. I wanted to stay like this forever.

"You kept your promise," he whispered against my hair. "You came back to me."

I bit my lip, holding back the tears that were welling up. I still felt so much confusion over what had happened, so much sadness over what it had put Edward through.

"Hey…no more crying. Everything is okay now." Edward rolled us to the side so that he could gently rock me back and forth.

"I'm sorry, I just…" I couldn't catch my breath. The tears just kept coming, and I was powerless to stop them.

"Hey….It's okay." He ran his hands up and down my back, shushing me and repeating over and over that it was okay until I calmed down.

"I'm sorry. God, way to ruin a moment." I snuffled into his chest. "My emotions are so all over the place these days."

"I know, it's okay." He held on to me as I struggled to collect myself. "I noticed you tense up earlier. What happened?"

I could feel the heat rush to my face. I was still finding myself in all this, and while I loved how he made me feel, I was still struggling with the way to articulate my feelings. Or how he made me feel.

"When you were…" My face felt like it was on fire. "When I…"

"Come on, Bella. It's me. You can tell me."

I took a deep breath and launched in. "It was so intense, and I felt like I couldn't catch my breath, and then there was almost like an explosion of light. And it reminded me of the last sensation I had before I fell."

Edward chuckled wryly, his hands running up and down my back, reassuring me.

"I have to say that is a first. I'd like to think that I knocked you off your feet with my oral skills, not sent you into a panic attack." He kissed my shoulder and pulled me in a bit closer. "I should have known better than to push you after what happened earlier today, but I couldn't stay away from you any longer."

Wiping my eyes, I pulled back to look up at Edward. "What do you mean should have known after earlier?"

"Rose called me after she talked to you today." Edward searched my face, waiting for a reaction.

I swallowed back the guilt at not telling him about my melt down. They weren't becoming any less frequent, but I didn't want him worrying over something he couldn't control.

"It's perfectly normal to have memory gaps, but I need you to tell me if these emotional flares keep happening."

"I should have, it just, well…" I could feel the tears welling up again. "Damnit, I am so fucking tired of crying! I'm pathetic!"

"No, you aren't pathetic." He kissed my forehead and pulled me closer. "You don't need to justify your actions, just don't do it again, got it? I won't be angry, and I won't pull away. I just want to make sure you are okay."

He was right. I should have said something. And yet I was afraid to. By acknowledging the melt downs, it felt like I was admitting that there might be something really wrong with me, not just a lingering symptom that would soon remedy itself.

"I'm okay, Edward. It will be fine. It was just a brain fart."

He kissed forehead again. "Such filthy language. I expect better than a soon to be doctor of letters."

"Hmm, would you rather I used my filthy language in other ways?"

"Such as?"

"Such as I am sick and fucking tired of you kissing my forehead. Since you've outted all those amazing oral skills, I'd much rather you use your mouth for other things."

His eyes narrowed, and that devious smile I had missed so much slipped into place.

"Really? Let's explore that, shall we?"

My innuendo was enough to redirect the conversation to much more interesting topics.

There were no unplanned emotional melt downs the rest of the day. I was safe, secure and loved. I had no fear of what might lurk around the corner.

That would be more than enough to help me weather these temporary flares, and soon enough, we'd forget that there was ever an issue in the first place.


	33. Chapter 33

**Email From Jasper Whitlock**

_To: Edward Masen_

_From: Jasper Whitlock_

_Subject: Bella's Dissertation_

I've started and stopped this email multiple times. I've toyed with picking up the phone, but I don't know how to begin. I need to say something, but I feel like I am betraying a confidence.

I know you are aware that Bella submitted her dissertation. She is being proactive while waiting for feedback from her advisor by starting to work on her presentation.

She asked me to help her get ready by acting as the review panel. We went through a trial run today.

It didn't go well.

I am not sure if it's her nature to be overly emotional, but she pretty much fell apart when I started digging in. At first she was combative, but as my questions escalated, she literally dissolved in tears.

Is there something going on that I should know, something that might have her so wound up? I mentioned potentially delaying her presentation for a while, but she got even more upset, insisting that it has to get done. I don't think she realizes how disastrous it would be if she melted down in the middle of her presentation. It could set her back months, if not a year. It could also ruin potential recommendations from the committee, which would impact her ability to find a job.

Please don't tell her that I dabbled, as I don't want her to feel that I betrayed a trust. I just don't want to see her fail. She's worked too hard to get here.

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Jasper Whitlock_

_From: Edward Masen_

_Subject: Re: Bella's Dissertation_

I was afraid of this. She's been incredibly emotional since I brought her home from the hospital. She refuses to acknowledge it, going so far as to try and laugh it off. I've spoken to her neurologist who assures me that it's all normal; part of the healing process. Nonetheless I am worried that the way she is dealing with it is anything but normal..

The littlest things set her off. She had a full on panic attack at the library a few weeks ago because she couldn't remember the password for her laptop. Fortunately she called Rose, who managed to calm her down.

Things have progressed between us more than you may be aware, and we've talked about her staying on here permanently. But she's petrified about finding a job. I know that she's been having issues because of the injury; I don't want to think about what any type of set back would do to her already fragile psyche.

What happens if she presents and fails? It would crush her.

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Edward Masen_

_From: Jasper Whitlock_

_Subject: Re: Bella's Dissertation_

She would have to retool her written dissertation and resubmit.

And why didn't you tell me about her not having a job sooner? Use your head you idiot – did you not think that I might be able to help? Fat lot of good it will be now, academic slots are all but filled for the coming year. I can beat around the bushes, see if I can suss out anyone who knows of some research positions or adjunct slots open…

Have you tried talking to her about this? Tried to change her mind?

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Emmett McCarty, Rosalie Hale_

_From: Edward Masen_

_Subject: Desperate - I need your help_

I hate to ask this, but I don't know what else to do.

Things aren't all 'okay' with Bella. She is experiencing some lingering side effects that impede her ability to handle her emotions. It only seems to manifest itself when she is stressed or overwhelmed.

Her doctors believe that it will correct itself in time. Unfortunately she is intent on scheduling her dissertation defense as soon as possible, and I am worried that she won't be able to handle it.

I need to figure out a way to talk to her into delaying, and was hoping that you could do the same.

If on the high likelihood that she tries to laugh it all off I am going to insist that someone go with her for the presentation. It would also probably be good to line up friends to back her up. The more moral support, the better.

Rose, I know that there is no love lost between us, but I hope that you don't delete this before reading. I can appreciate if you don't want to have anything to do with me. But this isn't for me; this is for Bella.

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Jasper Whitlock_

_From: Edward Masen_

_Subject: Re: Bella's Dissertation_

She sees this dissertation as some type of roadblock in her life. I don't even think she wants to teach anymore, but she can't give it up, it's like a crusade. She is so focused on getting it done that it's almost becoming an obsession. I keep trying to convince her it's not an all or nothing proposition, but I am not having any luck.

As for changing her mind, have you ever succeeded in changing Alice's once it's made up? No need to respond, I know the answer.

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Edward Masen_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Desperate - I need your help_

I'll talk to Rose. They've spoken on the phone a few times over the past week. I think the incident with the password a few weeks opened back up the lines of communication.

You know that Bella will dig in her heels if we tell her not to do something, don't you? Which means you might have to press things a bit, maybe even lay down an ultimatum. Are you willing to go there if you have to? And are you willing to deal with the consequences? It sounds like she's not totally level right now, which means that you might not like her response.

The more I think about it, I'd seriously consider wearing a cup when you have this conversation.

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Edward Masen_

_Subject: Re: Desperate - I need your help_

Of course she'll dig her heels in. Would you expect anything different? Do you think Rose can change her mind?

There is a huge irony in this whole nightmare; she may be an emotional mess, but she's become such a fighter. All that time trying to pull her out of her shell, and all it took was standing down a git with a title to give her the confidence she needed. How the hell do I convince her that she's not ready without undermining that new found determination? I feel like an ass for even thinking it.

As for me being willing to go to an ultimatum, I will do whatever I can for her. I can't stand the thought of her getting to the States and failing.

I worry about what would happen to her if things don't go as she hopes. Will it keep her from coming back? Yes, I can try the ultimatum route, but will that make it worse?

I hate this. I feel like no matter what I do, I run the risk of losing her for good. I can't do that Emmett. She's the strong one, not me.

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Edward Masen_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Desperate - I need your help_

If anyone can get her to listen, it's Rose. It might not be pretty, but for some reason, those two can get through to each other in ways no one else can.

Do you want one of us on standby to go to Chicago with her, just in case? I can move some things around behind the scenes so that Rose 'just happens to be going' at the same time. If we can't convince her to wait, she'll at least have someone she trusts there.

The more I think about it, let's keep Rose as a neutral party in this. Bella may want someone to lean on if she feels like she needs a safe haven. Rose is the natural choice. What do you think?

As for you losing her, not a chance. She's absolutely nuts about you. She told Rose the other day that she's planning on coming back here for good.

Dude, she's giving up baseball, apple pie and Chevrolet for your limey ass. Don't go all emo on me now.

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Emmett McCarty_

_From: Edward Masen_

_Subject: Re: Desperate - I need your help_

I don't know what to think anymore. I'd like to be there, but it probably makes more sense for it to be Rose. She can probably be more objective and less emotional than I can.

And please don't tell your girlfriend that for once I appreciate her clinical and cold nature. You know I am grasping at straws. This doesn't mean that I forgive her by any means.

Bugger all, this whole situation is miserable. Bella's driving herself into a hole for me, for a chance at something permanent. She's getting close to her six month window, which means she will have to leave the country for a little while. She isn't taking classes, so getting a student visa is out of the question. And without completing her dissertation, she'll be hard pressed to get an employment visa.

I told her that I could take care of her, that she could live with me until she found something. What is that euphemism you love so much, went over like a fart in a wet suit? She told me no, that she had to do this on her own. And while I know she is right, there isn't anything that I can do, it still doesn't change the fact that she might have to leave, and not be able to get back in.

**-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-**

_To: Edward Masen_

_From: Emmett McCarty_

_Subject: Re: Desperate - I need your help_

What did you expect you moron, she's as stubborn as you are. And for the record, it's not gone unnoticed that she's the one sacrificing here, not you. You want her to stay. What would you be willing to do if she couldn't?

How far are you willing to go? Because there is a really easy answer to all this - you could ask her to marry you. Then she could stay regardless of what happens with her dissertation. And you both get what you want.


	34. Chapter 34

_Thus are we ministers of God's own wish: that the world, and men for whom His Son die, will not be given over to monsters, whose very existence would defame Him. He has allowed us to redeem one soul already, and we go out as the old knights of the Cross to redeem more. Like them we shall travel toward sunrise; and like them, if we fall, we fall in good cause_

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 26 - Sucker Punches**

"Seriously, Rose, I can't tell you how grateful I am." I set the small bag on the counter top in her new flat. "I am at a loss when buying this type of stuff."

"You never told me, what's the occasion?" Rose asked as she pulled a beer out of the refrigerator.

"Honestly? The accident made me appreciate how important it is not to take things for granted. We have a lot to celebrate; Edward's new job is going great; my advisor absolutely adored my dissertation; life is on track. I feel like I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel."

"Geez, talk about nothing short of an act of God to get you to buy lingerie." Rose took another sip of her beer, before grinning at me. "It has been an interesting year for you, hasn't it? If I told you last November when you walked out of Mike's apartment that you were going to turn your entire world on its head and meet the love of your life in London, what would you have said?"

"That you drank too much in college." I sat down at the kitchen table and bent my arms so that I could weave my hands together behind my head. "And there is an irony in me saying that, giving that you could argue that I've been acting like a loon since the accident. But it gave me the perspective I needed to finally cap this thing off. Can you believe that in just a few weeks this will all be over and I'll be done?"

Since my melt down at the library there had been a progressive thaw with Rose. I wouldn't say everything was at the 'forgive and forget' stage, but she was much too important to my life not to make an effort. Over the previous weeks we'd spent a lot of time on the phone, and had even gone out to dinner a few times. It gave us a chance to talk about the things that we should have, like our relationships with others, as well as with each other. Dare I say it; we were closer than we'd ever been.

Rose had spent a lot of time talking through her feelings for Emmett. Why she'd kept him at bay for so long. Her fear of commitment. Her need to feel safe and secure. It was strange to hear her describe the feelings that he brought out in her. It was unnerving to realize just how similar our situations were.

"It's funny, in some ways it feels like we were just freshmen. In other ways it feels like it's been eons." Rose took a sip from the bottle. "Do you feel like you are ready to go through your defense?"

Did I feel I was ready? How do I answer that question? I'd lived with this material for years, knew it backwards and forwards. Yet in the past few weeks, my ability to talk about it objectively seemed to be colored by something new, something different. It didn't change how I felt about my research; that was sound. It was more of an understanding of how to articulate my thoughts, to make my point.

I guess Edward was right, I really did need to understand the dynamics of passion, fear and loss to truly get the book.

Jasper had been fabulous over the last few weeks, putting me through the paces as I refined my presentation. He posed the hard questions, forcing me to poke holes in my outline and prepare my rebuttal questions. The first few times hadn't gone very well. I'd let Jasper bait me with some of his questions, popping off smart alec answers, and actually tearing up or losing my temper a few times.

I found myself getting easily frustrated. I wanted to be bold, put forward salacious comments and thoughts that would force the review panel to think. It was incredibly out of character. The old me would have delivered a smart, but lifeless presentation. No risk; but no fireworks either. It would have been absolutely passable, and totally vanilla. Just like Chicago Bella had been. But London Bella wanted the fireworks, to knock them dead. Unfortunately there is a risk with fireworks of getting burnt when lighting the wick.

But over the course of the past week, something started to change. My frustration and emotional volatility started to fade. It might have been because I was getting comfortable with the material. Or it could be that my body was finally finished healing.

Whatever it was, I was grateful for it. My last few dry runs had gone flawlessly. Jasper tried a few new tactics to get a rise out of me, but I'd parried them all with no problem. No shakes, no tears. I didn't even get mad. He even laughed and told me I was intimidating on our last run.

I'd learned something about myself in the past few months, and the accident had merely crystallized it. I'd let my guard down, and in doing so, found that letting loose that passion that Edward always talked about was a good thing. It gave more color and depth to the world. It also made me question a lot of the decisions I'd made in life.

"Rose, can I ask you a question?"

She frowned at my out of left field question, but nodded her head to proceed.

"How do you deal with your emotions when you are at work? Like when Emmett was getting to you early on, how did you not let it affect your performance?"

"Easy, Bella. I fucked him."

"I'm serious Rose, how did you…"

"I am serious, Bella. I fucked him. That night that I found him here with you, I got it out of my system. And whenever it started percolating, I'd get it out again. Was it the right way to handle it? Probably not. But it got us here, and even though bad things happened along the way, we are happy now."

"Somehow I don't think that will work well in the world of academia. You've seen Dr. Banner." I joked half heartedly.

"You're the opposite of me, Bella. You were always the controlled one. You never let things get too close to the surface. I do. We deal with things differently. You just need to learn how to strike a balance"

I nodded, acknowledging her words. "So is this it? You've kept Emmett around for a while now. Could this be it?"

She smiled, and bit her lip. It made her look like a little girl who was bursting at the seams to talk about a new friend. "Yeah. I think it might be. And more importantly, I think Emmett agrees. Funny how shit works out, isn't it? What about you? Are you happy?"

Her question was one that I'd been thinking about a lot over the past few days.

"I've come to realize that happiness is subjective. When I'm with Edward, it doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. But when I'm not…especially when I am working on my paper, I have moments where I start to worry. It almost feels like a panic

attack. I think it kind of goes with your comment about finding a balance. The two halves I have to balance don't seem to work well with each other."

"And what scares you the most about that? What are you afraid of?"

She'd always had a way of cutting to the quick of things, asking the honest question. I respected that about her.

"What am I afraid of? Honestly, I don't know. Part of me wishes that I'd never decided to get this damn doctorate. Lately it's felt like an albatross around my neck, and here I am at the eleventh hour questioning what I do with it. But at the same time, if I hadn't gone for my doctorate, would I be here?"

"That, my dear, is the million dollar question. I've posed it to myself multiple times. I haven't figured out an answer, but I can tell you that the end product is pretty damn good."

Rose grabbed a bag of chips out of the cabinet and pulled them open before tipping the bag towards me. I waved her off.

"So you have a defense date. Did you buy a ticket yet?"

"Yeah, I bought it this morning. I leave a week from Monday. I'm going to spend a few days with Angela before I do my final prep. Figure I'll be over there about two weeks."

"And then…" Rose was cut off buy a slam of a door.

"Hey Babe, I'm home," Emmett called out from the hallway.

"It's not your apartment you big oaf; it's mine. You don't get to call it home," Rose

retorted as I heard Emmett stomp through the flat towards the kitchen...

"Oh come on Rosie, you know…" He pulled up short in the doorway. "Oh, hey Bella. I didn't know you were here."

He crossed the room to give Rose a kiss. There was a low verbal exchange followed by a number of wet smacking noises. I studied the clock on the microwave, trying to tune out the things I didn't want or need to hear.

"Hey Bella, did you want to borrow that dress still?" Rose called over Emmett's shoulder.

"If I could, that would be great. I don't really have anything appropriate, you know?"

Rose laughed and pushed Emmett away. "Please, I know your clothing choices. Let me go get it."

Emmett retrieved the beer that Rose had abandoned and plopped down in the chair across from me, arms resting on the table.

"You look good, kiddo. Definitely a million times better than a month ago."

"It doesn't take much to look better than that, Em."

Taking a pull off the beer, he tipped the bottle at me. "Did I hear you say you bought a ticket home?"

"Yeah. It's time to go home and defend the masterpiece."

"Are you sure you are ready for that?"

The abrupt nature of Emmett's question caught me off guard. "What do you mean am I ready for that?"

"Well, you've been through a lot lately. I can't help but wonder…"

"What, Em? You of all people should know how important this is to me. I am going to cross this off, and then the sky's the limit."

"What difference is it going to make, Bella? Do you have a job lined up? Is this going to have that big of an impact on your future?"

"Emmett," Rose called from the kitchen door. "Back off. You don't know…"

"Come on, Rose. She was in a major accident six weeks ago. She has no business going halfway across the world by herself."

"What am I a goddamn child? Hello, I am sitting right here!" I waved my hand in the air. "It's not halfway around the world; it's the place I called home for the last nine years of my life. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself while I'm there."

"She's fine, Emmett." Rose handed me a bag and pulled me up out of my chair. "Ignore him. He means well, but sometimes his mouth doesn't connect to the brain filter."

She gave me a quick hug and led me to the front door. "Listen, I was supposed to go to Chicago in a few weeks. I may look into moving up it so I can be there to watch you light the world on fire. Plus, it would be fun to have a girl's weekend at Angela's. Think she would put me up too?"

"I'm sure she'd love that." I held up the bag. "Thanks for this. Hope I can channel you when I wear it."

"You'll be fine, and Edward won't know what hit him."

Rose closed the door, and I made my way out onto the street, looking for a cab.

"Hey, Bella! Don't forget this one!" Emmett called after me. I turned to see him running down the steps with the little bag I'd carried in earlier.

"Oh, thank you." I took the bag from him, embarrassed to think he might have peeked inside. I really didn't need a running commentary from Emmett on the contents of my underwear drawer.

"Listen, Bella. I don't mean to butt in, I just want to make sure that you are ready to go, you know?"

"I appreciate that, Emmett. I really do. But I am in a good place. I feel better about this than I have in ages. I want to get it done and move on, ya know?"

"Why? Why are you on such a mission?"

"Because for once, I feel like I know where I am going, and I am excited to get there. I am ready to see what comes next with my life. And the only way to do that is to finish this damn education of mine."

"Why?" His query wasn't cruel, more curious. "What difference will it make? Edward isn't going to feel any differently about you. It won't change who you are. Why is it such a big deal?"

"But Emmett, it will change who I am. No longer the student, now the professional. It opens up an entirely new world for me, including job opportunities in London. My bank account is about gone, and a nice viable job will go a long way to offsetting the cost of living in good old London town."

"Um, Bella, you are dating doctor who drives a car that costs more than the average American house. I bet he could help you out if you really needed money."

I cut him off, holding my hand up to end the conversation. "It's not that easy Emmett. Even if I was okay with accepting financial support, it doesn't change the fact that I can't stay on indefinitely without a visa. Dissertation equals job equals visa. Simple as that."

"What's the problem with accepting help? We are talking about Edward, not Mike."

"I know that, Emmett. He's the furthest thing from Mike."

He stepped forward, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "You know I love you, Bella. I just want you to be happy. And I'm afraid this isn't the silver bullet you think it is."

"Silver bullets are for werewolves Emmett. My dissertation is about vampires. Besides, I've invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in this, I can't quit now. " I punched him in the shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. "But if you are dead set on silver bullets, I can tell you where Rose hides hers."

Emmett frowned at me a moment, as if confused by my response. "I'm being serious Bella. You don't have to have all the answers. Work at Starbucks. Write a book. Train elephants. It's your call. Just don't expect a piece of paper to solve everything."

He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and then let out an ear piercing whistle. A cab screeched to a halt next to us. He opened the door and waited for me to climb in.

"Umm…Bella?" I looked up to a very sheepish expression on his face. "Listen, about, well…"

I had to laugh. I knew he couldn't resist. "Look for the Nike box in her closest."

The cab pulled away from the curb, leaving a dumbfounded Emmett in its wake. I would probably pay for that one, but hey, he deserved to get a little some tonight too.

I pulled my cell phone out of my bag and called up Edward's number. When he'd left for the hospital this morning, I'd given him a hard time about working on a Saturday, and made him promise that he would be home by five on the dot. I didn't like playing the guilt card, but I needed to do it to set his state of mind for the day.

I had two hours, just enough time to put the rest of my plan in motion. I tapped out a quick text and hit send.

_I got you a surprise._

I waited a few minutes before sending another one.

_It comes tied up in a pretty bow. But you have to be home by 5 to unwrap it._

Leaning back against the car seat, I smiled to myself. Turnabout is always fair play.

My phone chirped just as I was climbing out of the cab.

_Cheeky. Do I get a hint, or should I let my imagination go?_

I typed out one more message before putting my phone away.

_Imagination would be good, but tongue and hands would be better. Ping me when you park the car._

Let him stew on that one.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon picking up and getting ready. By 4:45 I had everything in order. A bottle of wine was open and breathing on the table; I'd lit enough candles to start a small forest fire; and most importantly, I'd poured myself into the black wrap dress that Rose had lent me.

Edward wasn't going to know what hit him.

There was too much in life to be excited about, to celebrate. I didn't want to miss a single moment. Starting right now.

At five on the dot, a text came through from Edward.

_In the parking lot. Do I get a hint? Maybe where you would like my tongue and hands?_

My response was immediate.

_Your hint is spontaneity. Get up here now._

I didn't get a reply,

A few minutes later, the door to the flat flew open.

"Where are you, Isabella?" Edward called. I heard the door click closed behind him.

"Do you think I am playing hide and go seek?" I stood in the living room, my hands clasped demurely behind my back

Dropping his bag in the hallway, Edward moved into the room slowly, eyes taking everything in before landing on me. His smile grew as he took in the dress, the bow knotted at my waist, the deadly high heels.

"I believe that I was taunted with a present to unwrap." He was close enough to reach out and tug on the loose knot of the dress. It gave easily, and I smiled as he stepped in closer, trailing his tongue up my neck. "And I have all kinds of ideas what to do with my hands and tongue."

"Welcome home," I whispered, untucking his shirt and working on the knot of his tie.

"What has gotten into you?" Edward laughed as I yanked the tie out of his collar and pulled open the rest of the buttons on his shirt. My hands dropped to his belt, popping it loose so that I could work on the button of his pants.

"Hopefully you." My heart felt like it was going to lurch out of my chest. I couldn't move fast enough. I pushed his pants and boxers down, using the toe of my pump to pull them down as my hands wandered across his body.

"Christ," he swore against my shoulder. His hands worked just as frantically, pulling loose the belt and slipping inside my dress. He tugged impatiently at the bit of black silk I'd bought earlier in the day, leaving me completely naked underneath. "You are an absolute vixen. Suggestive text messages, looking like something out of a fantasy…I can't wait see where you are taking this."

I let his hands roam as I shook myself free of my underwear. Then I slipped my hands in his hair, forcing him to move back up so that I could whisper in his ear.

"You know exactly where I am taking this. Shoes on or shoes off?" I didn't give him time to respond before running my tongue around the edge of his ear.

"Oh fuck me," he gasped. "On. Please."

"I think I can accommodate both of those requests." I pushed him backwards so that he dropped onto the couch. His hands shot out to steady himself before finding their way back inside my dress, which hung open limply. His fingers burnt a trail up the inside of my leg.

"Don't we need something first?" His breathing was ragged, and I could tell that it was a struggle to be practical, to think responsibly. That was what I had been hopping for.

I climbed into his lap, a knee resting on either side of his hips as I lowered myself down onto him.

"Not anymore." I moved slowly, letting my words sink in. "We can do this whenever and wherever the urge hits now. Do you know how much I like that idea?"

"Christ, Bella." His fingers dug into my hips, trying to increase the pace. "God you feel so good."

We continued to rock against each other as I whispered things in Edward's ear. How I'd fantasized about him all day, how much I wanted him. I was intentionally pushing him, trying to make him lose control. My intent was not purely sexual gratification. It was emotional too. I wanted to make him feel out of control and completely consumed. I wanted him to know how it felt.

"If you keep this up, I am not going to last much longer," Edward groaned in my ear.

"We've got the rest of the night to take our time." I leaned back so that I stare straight into Edward's eyes as I ground my hips in harder. "I don't want to take time right now."

His eyes fluttered closed in reaction, and his forehead dropped against mine.

"Fuck, Bella." His words were labored which sent a thrill of victory through me.

When our pace became irregular, and I could tell that Edward was nearing the end, I knotted my fingers in his hair and kissed his neck just below his ear.

"I love you. There's no one else for me, ever. Make me yours."

It was just enough to tip him over, and he let out a muffled groan against my shoulder. His arms were tight around my waist, and his breathing ragged. A small surge of power, followed by something more intense rippled through me. I did this to him. Only me.

He loved me.

I wanted to tell him I loved him again. I felt like I needed to repeat it over and over, that it could never be enough. Rose had been right earlier when she made the

comment about how my life had turned on its head. I'd come to London to find myself, but it hadn't been anything like what I had originally expected.

"So where is my surprise?" Edward queried as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Nice. Thank you."

"Mmm. I like your surprises. What's the occasion?"

"All kinds of them. Made me feel like celebrating, and this seemed like the perfect way."

Edward's fingers ghosted over my stomach, and he smiled as I drew in a sharp breath. "And the spontaneity thing? Something you weren't telling me?"

"That one I thought better to show you."

He hummed appreciatively as he kissed his way down my neck. "I'm not sure I got it. Think you can show me again? After I get some food that is, I am starving."

I laughed and stood, wrapping the dress back around me. "Do you have any idea where my underwear got to?"

He laughed and grabbed his pants from the discarded pile on the floor. "I have no clue, and I wouldn't tell you if I did."

Once we were semi dressed, we grabbed something to eat and settled back in on the couch.

"So spill it, what else are we celebrating beside the fact that we can have sex when and where ever the hell we like now?"

His fingers ran up my leg suggestively as he posed the question.

"Isn't that enough?"

"Of course it is, but you made it sound like there was more."

I stretched out, my legs bent over his lap so he could continue to tease his way along the inside of my thigh.

"All kinds of things. Your job. Me getting better. Us. The rave response on my dissertation. It's been a good couple of weeks."

I popped a grape in my mouth and continued on. "I feel like everything is finally coming together like I want it. Just a few more things to fall in place when I am in Chicago, and then it will be full steam ahead. I am good as new, hell, technically I am better. What was the line from _The Six Million Dollar Man_? We have the technology; we can make him faster….stronger. Did you put a chip in my brain while I was out? Something that gave me more confidence? Maybe a libido booster too?"

I felt so carefree, so happy with the moment, that Edward's reaction caught me completely off guard.

"What do you mean, when you are in Chicago?"

"When I give my defense, silly. I bought my ticket today. I told you I was doing that this morning before you left. I decided to go over a bit early, hang out with my friend Angela and take care of a few things. I think two weeks is more than enough time to get the green light on my presentation and get the paperwork in line for an employment visa so that I can come back for good."

Edward dropped his hand from my leg, and shifted on the couch so that he could look directly at me.

"What if I said that I didn't think you should go to Chicago? What if I told you there was a way for you to stay here, and you could delay your dissertation until you were really ready."

"Why delay it? I want to get this thing done and crossed off the list. I've been ready for years." I was confused. We'd talked about my dissertation enough for him to appreciate how important it was to me.

"You might have been before the accident, but you aren't now, Bella. Can't you see that? You are still running into things left and right and your emotions are still all over the map. Don't you think it would be better to take it easy, and maybe try to present in the fall when things are more balanced out. Maybe I could even come with you."

Sitting up, I shifted my legs off Edwards lap so that we were face to face.

"Edward, it's been a week since I had a melt down. Yeah, I still run into stuff, but emotionally I'm fine! But let's say, just for the sake of discussion, that I did wait, what would I do in the mean time? I am way too over educated for the jobs that I am qualified for, and it's hardly likely that I could get a teaching spot with just my masters. I've only got until the end of July before they kick me out because I don't have a visa, and the likelihood of me getting one while unemployed is zero to none. Getting this done is my best chance to be able to stay here permanently."

Edward grabbed my hand, pulling it into his lap. "Stay here with me. I can take care of you; lord knows I have more than enough money. I'll get you a ring so that we can say we are engaged. They won't make you leave for that. Then once you have your dissertation, you can find a job, and it will all fall into place."

His words were like a slap in the face. I don't know which stung more, his doubt in my ability, or his careless use of something that should mean so much more than my ability to gain resident alien status.

"You don't…" I struggled for words, trying to reconcile what he'd said versus what he meant.

"Think about it, it makes sense. You can stay here; you'll be fine for money, I'll take care of everything. You'll be ready by the time the fall comes around, and you can work on lining a job up in the process. You'll fly through the visa process at that point."

He'd obviously thought it all through. His logic was too clean, too organized. This must have been on his mind for a while.

The entire time he'd been encouraging and supporting me he'd doubted my ability to see things through. And he hadn't said a word.

It didn't escape me that his comment about an engagement had nothing to do with love and everything to do with legal status. We'd never discussed what either of us wanted long term, but knowing that he would use something so precious in such a cavalier way was far worse than his lack of faith in my abilities.

This I the type of thing I would have expected from Mike. Never from Edward.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I pulled my hand free from his grasp. "It's nice that you think so highly of my work that you'll support me unconditionally. I don't want you to take care of me. I want to be your equal."

"Bella, come on, you are being irrational. This is about supporting you, and you are my equal. You just aren't ready yet. We all see it. You are so hell bent on pushing ahead that you are only going to make it worse."

I was about to launch on in his logic about making it worse, when his pronoun choice registered.

"We? Who is we?" I scrambled to process his words. "Have you been talking about me behind my back?"

He sighed and dropped his head against the back of the couch in frustration.

"Yes, Bella. I have. I spoke with Jasper and Emmett a few weeks ago. We're concerned, and I think it would be better if you wait for a while longer. Give yourself a little more time to heal, to get back to the old you. You're intellectually ready; I have no doubt of that. Your dissertation is brilliant. But you can't take the pressure now. We've all seen it. You need to wait."

"I thought that you of all people believed in me?" I couldn't bring my voice higher than a whisper. His doubt pulled everything down. All those words I'd read in his journal, all the things that he'd said to me over the past few weeks felt suddenly shallow. I'd trusted that the deceit, the half truths were behind us.

"Bella, I believe in you more than anyone! That's why I am doing this. My god, look at you, any little thing sets you off. How can I let you walk into the lion's den knowing that?"

"Doing what? Talking to Emmett and Jasper behind my back instead of talking to me? Coming up with some contrived engagement to keep me here? Not telling me what you really think?"

I rubbed my forehead, trying to get control over my anger and frustration. It would only give his argument more credibility. That might have been true even a week ago, but it wasn't now. I wasn't an emotional mess. I'd started pulling it together.

I _was_ ready.

"Would you have listened? I'm not doing this to be cruel, Bella. I'm trying to protect you."

"You're not trying to protect me, Edward. If you were, then you'd know how much your bogus engagement would hurt. I thought you of all people would be honest with me and not handle me with kid gloves. This is the type of stuff I dealt with in my last relationship, and I'll be damned if I am going to go through it again."

Edward frowned, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

"My god, Bella, don't you see how volatile you are? I've watched you bumble along for weeks, waiting for you to get better. Every time you melt down I cringe, hoping that it will be the last time. I've never felt as helpless as I do when I see you cry."

"Edward, I haven't had an episode since a week ago Thursday. I know that you are concerned, but you aren't seeing the improvements. I am getting better. I can handle this. I need to do this."

Edward reached out to touch my cheek, but I pulled back, not trusting myself to stick with my resolve. A flicker of surprise, then anger darted across his face. "I am also cognizant of the fact that you were in a major accident just over a month ago. You are fragile, and I want to do everything I can to keep you from being hurt."

I stood, moving away from the couch. I needed to step away, to protect myself, to hide my humiliation. "What will I be to you then, Edward? A kept woman? You told me that you don't want to be a foregone conclusion. Well I don't either. I've already done that once in my life, and it sucked. So if you can't give me the real thing, then I don't want it. I finally believe in myself enough to know that I deserve better than that."

Edward leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he cradled his head in his hands.

"You know damn well that I don't throw the concept of engagement out lightly, Bella. I can't stand by and watch you destroy everything that you've worked so hard for, even if in your flawed logic it's a way to come back here. You aren't ready. I am also not willing to let you go, and this is the only way to make sure that you can stay. What else do you want me to say?"

"How about you love me and you want to marry me regardless of what happens? My god Edward if you are going to talk about proposals, then why not mean it? You can't spend weeks telling me how much you love me and then throw something as meaningful as marriage out like it's a toy to be reclaimed once I have another."

Edward shook his head, laughing bitterly. "You believe what you want, Bella. You know what the truth is. You just can't let go of this arbitrary hurdle that you've created for yourself. I don't care what happens with your dissertation. All I care about is you."

A slap across the face wouldn't have been as jarring.

"The truth? Where have you been truthful in this? Fake engagements? Talking behind my back? That's not honesty. That's not love. That's being selfish. Why didn't you tell me the truth instead of trying to lead me into the decision that you wanted? Why didn't you tell me you thought I wasn't ready?"

Edward stood and took two steps forward. I thought he was approaching me; instead he picked his shirt up off the ground and slipped his arms into the sleeves.

"I've tried to bring it up a million ways, but every time I tried, you were so hopeful, so idealistic about it all. I couldn't dash your hopes."

"So you chose to break my heart instead? Nice choice." My words were caustic, but I couldn't stop. I was so angry, so hurt at the game he was playing. A year ago I would have given in to whatever was wanted of me. But not now. "So Instead of 'trying to bring it up a million different ways,' why not flat out say that you were worried? I might not have liked it, but I would have at least listened! You didn't have to try and manipulate the situation because you thought I couldn't handle it!"

He studied me for a long minute. His expression was cold, no trace of the man I thought I knew.

"Fine, you want manipulation, you've got it. I told you if you left me again, I wouldn't wait. I mean that. I love you so much that I can't breathe sometimes. And I can't handle you leaving and not coming back. But I am an all or nothing type of guy. I'm sorry if that hurts you, but it really is that simple. So if you go, go realizing that I won't be here waiting for you to come back. It's up to you to decide what you want, Bella. I tried to help you, but you obviously want to do things your way. I hope you are happy with your choices."

He grabbed his keys off the table, "I'll have you know that I would have married you in a heartbeat, visa or not. You know where I stand. The proverbial ball is in your court now."

The slam of the door behind marked the finality of his statement.

I sank to the floor, overwhelmed by sheer panic. What was I going to do? What had I done?

I could feel the anxiety pulling at me, threatening to suck me under. But I couldn't give in. I couldn't let it cause me to falter now. I wasn't the girl that needed to find edification in someone else to have an identity anymore. I needed to have faith in that, and in what I could be.

I sat in the dark for a long time, replaying the evening's events. From the moment Edward walked in the door to the click of it behind him on the way out. I tried to take out the emotion, to view the situation for what it was.

And I came to the realization that were damned if we did, damned if we didn't. We'd been dancing around this moment in one way or another for months. I thought we had put the ghosts to rest, but we hadn't. We were both still fighting our own personal demons, afraid of being something that we didn't want to be, all the while hoping that we wouldn't be left behind.

With everything we'd been through, we still hadn't learned. I may have resolved my insecurities, but I still hadn't truly stood on my own. Edward might have resolved his issues with the past, but he hadn't truly let go of his fears.

It led us both to doubt ourselves, which then projected onto each other.

That's when I knew what I had to do. There was a way to prove that I could stand on my own without him losing me. It didn't have to be an all or nothing proposition.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up and went into the bedroom. I threw clothing into a bag, making sure I had a few business appropriate outfits and my passport. Then I changed into jeans and a t-shirt.

Before leaving, I pulled a piece of paper out of my notebook and scribbled a quick note.

_Changing my flight to leave in the next day or so. I'll be at Rose's until then working on my prep._

_I still love you, but it doesn't change the fact that you are an asshole right now._

_Bella_

_P.S. I refuse to accept your ultimatum_

Taking one last look around the apartment, I registered his tie lying on the floor. I picked it up and stuffed it in my backpack. Something to take with me. A lifeline, a belt, a noose. A million and one uses.

And maybe a reason to come back.


	35. Chapter 35

_We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is our only anchor._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 27 - Honest Answers**

"Are you sure you have everything?"

Rose had been mother henning me for the past two hours.

"Yes. Passport, wallet, laptop, clothes. I am ready to go."

She nodded, biting her lip.

"What is it, Rose? Spit it out?" She'd been walking on eggshells since I'd shown up on her doorstep unannounced two days ago. I knew she wanted to pry, but I also knew she was respecting my space.

"I got you something. I know that you'll yell at me and say it's too much, but…"

She pulled a small pouch from her purse and handed it to me. I tugged on the drawstring and tipped it up to reveal a small silver phone.

"I wanted you to be able to stay in touch. I knew you couldn't afford international calling, and I couldn't modify your existing service." She took a breath before continuing. "It does email too. I had all your information, and got Emmett to set it up. Everything is in there; email, phone, you name it."

I was touched. It wasn't the gift so much as the thought behind it.

"Thank you, Rose. You are the best."

She squeezed me tightly. "Use it until I get there, okay? I want to hear from you every day."

"I will; I promise. I'll see you next Tuesday, okay?"

Dropping her arms, Rose stepped back so that I could grab my bag.

"Tell Angela to stock the fridge with Goose Island! I am dying for a little down home hoppy goodness."

"Will do." I let out a breath, and started towards security. I'd gone about four steps before I stopped to look back over my shoulder.

Rose stood, watching me go. Just Rose. No one else.

I hoisted my bag a little higher on my shoulder and resumed my walk to security.

He'd made his point clear. There would be no grand gesture at the eleventh hour. No running through the airport, shouting that he loved me, apologizing about the stupidity of the proposal.

Nor would there be a real one that would convince me not to get on the plane.

It hurt to realize that even though I hadn't expected it to happen, deep down I had hoped for it.

Forget that we'd never had a real conversation about what we wanted in the future. Practical conversation and grand gestures don't often intersect.

The nine hour flight to Chicago was uneventful. I worked on my presentation notes, watched a movie, tried to sleep. Anything to keep from thinking about the what ifs.

What if he had shown up at the airport? What if he meant it when he said about not waiting? What if things in Chicago didn't go the way I hoped? What if all this really was for naught?

I pushed the thoughts out of my head. Edward hadn't shown up, and I wasn't going to fail. As for whether or not he'd wait, I'd have to cross the bridge once I got back to London.

Not if, when. I refused to believe in anything but that.

As arranged, Angela met me at the baggage claim at O'Hare. She, Rose and I had been friends since undergrad, and we'd stayed close after. A lot of it had been because her fiancé and Mike ended up at the same law firm.

"Oh my god! You look amazing!" She cooed as she gave me a huge hug. "I missed you!"

I hugged Angela back. "Thank you so much for picking me up."

She waved me off and grabbed my backpack from my hand. "Come on, grab your bags. I've got beer and guacamole waiting, and there are hot dogs and burgers ready to be grilled. It doesn't get more American than that!"

Our walk to the car was filled with Angela's chatter. About old friends, Ben's job, the renovation on their house. It was all inane small talk, but it filled the space.

I couldn't help but think that this could have been my life. As much as I was happy for Angela, I couldn't imagine choosing the path she had followed. She filled her days with volunteer efforts, lots of working out, and her remodeling project. Ben was gone a lot, and when he was home, they were constantly on the go. I knew that Angela wanted a baby, but Ben was too focused on his career. I wanted to ask her if she was happy, but knew that happiness was measured by the individual. Angela was living the life she wanted. It just wasn't for me.

She quizzed me about England, curious about my experiences and the progress I made that lead to my presentation. It was clear she had spoken with Rose by the way she peppered me with questions about the hot Southern man that Rose had reeled in. She was curious about my trip north too, had I enjoyed it, what had I done, where had I stayed? I laughed when she mentioned that she wanted to try and schedule a long weekend for her and Ben there. She went on and on about the romantic places to stay and things they would do.

I was just about to launch into the description of Dunsley Hall as the perfect place to go, but stopped short. I didn't want to share something so personal, even with Angela.

I hadn't thought about Whitby, or the debacle that had driven me there, in months. Not a single thought about Maggie, either. I found it ironic that I'd managed to leave her behind so easily. Maybe it was my new found sense of self confidence, or security in the fact that Edward really did want me.

Or maybe I simply had outgrown my fear of competing with a ghost.

It also reinforced the fact that Edward was thousands of miles away, doing who knows what. I'd not spoken to him since he left the flat in a fury. I'd called, but he never answered, either at home or on his cell. I tried stopping by the flat the day after he walked out, but no one was there. It was like he had dropped off the face of the earth.

Angela pulled into a parking spot in front of the grocery store. "I need to run in and grab some milk and more chips. Do you want to come in?"

"No, if you don't mind, I'll stay here. The quiet is nice."

Angela grabbed her purse from behind her seat, promising to be right back. As soon as she was inside the store, I pulled out my new phone and powered it up. A text message from Rose was waiting, asking for me to let her know I got here safe and sound. I shot her back a message letting her know all was good, and I would call soon.

Scrolling though the contacts, I noticed that she'd added both hers and Emmett's work and cell numbers and emails. Jasper was in there, office and email. So was Edward.

I looked at his name for a long time, desperately wishing I could talk to him. It was beyond obvious at this point that he was avoiding me, pushing me away for choosing to come back here. It stung, but in a way I understood. He really did think he had my best interest at heart, it was just…

Just what? Wrong? In some ways, yes. In other ways, maybe not.

After I'd shown up at Rose's unannounced, I'd dug out my presentation. I wasn't in the mood to work on it, but it was a way to shut out all the errant thoughts that swirled around in my head. And there, wedged between two manila folders was a small black leather book.

One that I'd forgotten to give back.

Like a glutton for punishment, I read it again, cover to cover. Understanding more of his actions, but also becoming increasing frustrated by the hypocrisy of his stance.

He'd said it clearly early on. He was afraid of losing me. He'd always been afraid, which is why he had taken the actions that he did. The overt manipulation and promise of an engagement had been absolutely devastating at the time. But hindsight allowed me perspective that I didn't have in the moment. That's when I realized that while we'd put the past to rest, Edward had never dealt with the fallout. Very simply, he expected people to reject him and leave, because that's exactly what Maggie had done.

His feeble attempt at a proposal had been, in his own way, his declaration of how much he loved me. But it had been for the wrong reason. It wasn't about us being together for the rest of our lives. It was about keeping me from leaving him.

And that is exactly why I had to say no.

It also explained why, when the proposal backfired, he did the only thing he could. He tried to force my hand. And then he walked away.

Correction. He pulled a Bella and ran away. He felt like he didn't have any choice either. In some ways, it was a mirror reflection of what I'd done upon finding Maggie's photo in his apartment months ago. An honest conversation on the front end could have prevented so much. Instead, Edward did what was in his nature; he hid things in an effort to protect me while controlling the situation to protect himself.

Deep down, I couldn't be mad at him for that. The way he'd handled it both times had been totally wrong, but the basic intent had been noble. And according to Alice, that same trait is what Maggie had worried about when she found out she was sick.

It would always be in Edward's nature to try and save people. Yet there was a difference between doing it for the right reason and doing it for the wrong one. He insisted that he did these things for others, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was really about protecting himself.

And of course I had to make it worse by reacting to the hurt. Looking at it in hindsight, I don't know if I could have responded any differently. Everything he'd said had come across as so cold, so clinical. But part of me couldn't help but second guess. What if I had chased after him? What if some how I'd managed to stop him? Was there anything that I could have said that would have changed things?

The never ending litany of what ifs. They seemed to consume my life these days.

I stared at the phone in my hand, thinking for a long time before selecting the email icon. Choosing Edward's personal email from the contact list, I typed out a short email message.

_Hi –_

_Just landed in Chicago. It's hot, which feels weird after London. Having dinner with Ang and then crashing early. Am six hours behind you, so if you get this and want to call, it won't be too late._

_B_

He could avoid me all he wanted. It didn't mean I had to respect it.

The next week was a whirlwind. I took the train into the city to meet with my advisor. I had lunch with a friend from college who worked at a small artsy publishing house.

She had reached out to some contacts in the UK for me, and had turned up a contract opportunity associated with a private foundation. It wouldn't be a long term job, and it probably wouldn't pay a lot, but it could lead to additional contacts and some work that I could point to as I interviewed for permanent jobs.

Rose's flight was scheduled to arrive at two on Tuesday, a week and a day after I had arrived in Chicago. She'd managed to move around her work schedule so that she could see my presentation.

It meant the world that she would do something like that for me.

That afternoon, while Angela met Rose at the airport, I had a meeting of my own. Ben had arranged for me to talk with an old friend who specialized in immigration law. She had a soft spot for Ben, and had offered to give me a few recommendations on how to navigate British immigration policy if I bought her a cup of coffee.

"Based on your education level, and the earnings you had for last year, you should plan on applying for a Highly Skilled Migrant Worker Visa," Kate explained as she stirred sweetener into her coffee. "Ideally it will make things more viable if you have a permanent job, but it doesn't totally preclude you from getting a visa. It's not like we are talking about becoming a citizen."

"So I can re-enter the country, even though I don't have a job? I've been over there for five months already."

Kate smiled and took a sip of her coffee. "It will probably go faster if you are there and submit your papers directly at the Home Office. The hardest part will be establishing residency. How long will you be in Chicago?"

I mapped out the remainder of my to-dos against my mental calendar. "At least another week."

"Go back over there and get this contract thing lined up, then apply. Heck, they may even be willing to foot the fee for you. If it doesn't come through, you should still be fine, as it typically takes ten to fourteen weeks for visa processing. You can invest a month or two working on finding a job before you have to get worried. Do you have somewhere to live?"

"I have a friend that I'd been staying with. She's an American citizen working on a project for the British government."

Kate nodded, placing her cup back on the table. "That's okay, but it would be much better if you had some stronger British ties. Roommates or something. They can't technically give you grief for it, but every little thing helps."

Her comment made me laugh at the irony. "Might as well get married for that matter."

"No, you definitely don't want to go that route. A bogus marriage is the best way to get kicked out of a country fast. Seriously though, the Brits are pretty progressive. I plugged all the details into the points calculator, and you are well over their minimum for requirements. Just line up something for employment and I can't see them denying you."

"You're joking, right?" I was shocked by Kate's assessment.

"No, not at all. It's not like getting into the States, Bella. Other countries are much more laid back about their immigration policies. Just make sure you have all your paperwork in order and establish residency ASAP. Your biggest jeopardy will be not finding a job, but you sound like you might have a few ideas on the hopper, so you should be in good shape."

We spoke for a bit longer about my options. Kate was great and happily promised to field any questions that I might have down the road.

After she left, I sat in the coffee shop, thinking through the things that I would need to get done in the next few days. I'd taken care of most of the non academic items on my list. My safe deposit box had been cleared out, tax forms retrieved from a box stored in Angela's attic. All that was really left was the last bit of preparation for my presentation on Thursday afternoon.

Glancing at my watch, I realized that it would be a good hour before Angela would be back from the airport with Rose. For the first time in weeks, I actually had time on my hands where absolutely nothing to had to get done.

And I had no clue what to do with myself.

I tried reading the magazine someone had left on the table next to me, but the articles were either trite odes to bizarre fashion or feminist manifestos on how to have the next great orgasm. Frustrated, I closed the magazine, and pulled out a pen, happy to doodle on the cover.

As I traced the letters and drew a moustache on the cover models, my mind began to wander. I thought about the strange twists and turns that my life had taken in the last five months.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, I'd tried desperately to put everything in neat little clean boxes. My career prospects. My relationships; with Rose, with Emmett, with Edward. But simple definitions didn't always work. It made me think about a conversation with a philosophy professor my sophomore year of college. He made us hold our hands over our desks, just high enough to cast a shadow, and asked us what we saw.

We all had variations of the same answer. Black and white. Light and dark.

He told us to look again, and this time pay attention to the edges. It wasn't as simple as black and white. There was a fine line around the shadow, a grey area that was neither one or the either, but bleed into both.

He called this the penumbra, and told us that we all lived our lives trying to be in the black or white, but rarely left the grey area at the edges.

I'd been looking at the people in my life the same way. No one in my life easily slotted into black or white categories. Not Edward, not Emmett. Not even Rose. We had both good and bad in us, the ability to do both harm and good.

I had been so ready to be angry at Rose for what happened with Royce, to make it about good and bad, that I never stopped to consider how her own issues and insecurities had led to the entire situation. And how in letting him off the hook, she had tried to make a wrong situation right.

We'd both done our fair share of damage. Like sirens, we'd lured men in, given them hope, made them love us. And in our own way, we'd bled them dry. Emmett, Edward, even Royce. Their actions in a number of ways were direct reactions to our choices.

And stepping even further back, as much as I had joked about my demonization of Maggie, she'd been just as bad. Her actions had left lasting marks on Edward, some of which he had yet to deal with.

He'd insisted that Maggie was preparation for me. She'd done so much to shape Edward, and those actions had a direct impact on how he had taken care of me after the accident, how he'd stood by me. But they also made him place his need to protect me over my need for him to be honest.

But I couldn't place all the blame on Edward. Or Royce. Every action had a reaction, every decision, a consequence. It didn't matter if the intent was good or not.

Just like my dissertation topic. Rose, Maggie, me, it didn't matter. Our choices set the course for all other events, which sparked a chain reaction.

The consequences of which we were living with right now.

A tap on my shoulder broke me out of my reverie. I dropped my pen and looked up with a smile.

But it wasn't Rose or Angela shouting to get my butt in gear, that there were drinks chilling.

It was Mike.

"Hi Bella."

He sat down in the chair across from me. His tie was loosened, and I noticed that his hands were free. No briefcase, no cell phone. He was totally unencumbered. Nothing to tie him to the office or his next big case.

He was totally out of his element.

"Hi…" I shuffled the magazine and pen around on the table, trying to find something to occupy my hands. "What are you doing here?"

"Ben and I had lunch today, he mentioned that you were back and would be downtown to meet with an old law school buddy about some legal stuff. I had a clear afternoon, so I thought I would stop by."

I nodded, not sure what to think. The firm that Mike and Ben worked for was only a few blocks from here, yet I had never stopped to consider that he might show up unannounced.

"How have you been?" I asked, not quite sure how to proceed. I had planned on asking Mike to meet me for a drink once my defense was over. He'd asked to see me when I came back, and he deserved better closure than I had given him in London.

"Okay. Busy. Working a lot." He sat back in his chair, idly fidgeting with a cup of coffee.

"You always did."

"More so since you left." His expression was pained, and I had a momentary pang of sadness. Mike really was a good guy, just not good for me.

"Listen, I…"

"No, I came to speak my peace, and I need you to let me do it." He paused, and I had to laugh to myself; he was slipping into trial mode, putting on his game face. "Bella, I love you. I've always loved you. I don't know how not to. And all this time without you, well…it made me realize just how much I need you in my life. I don't care if you work. You do what is going to make you happy; I'll stand behind you one hundred percent. Just come back to me, please?"

I sighed and reached out to grab his hand. He was hurting, and he held out hope for me, it was the least I could do.

Mike reached out to brush my bangs away from my eyes. He frowned as he registered the scar on my temple.

"What the hell happened?" His finger glanced gently along the red line, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I had an accident about six weeks ago. It's okay, I'm fine now."

"What the hell, Bella?" He surveyed me, taking in the scar on my arm too. "How could this have happened?"

"Nothing, Mike. It was just an accident."

"I knew I should have never let you go to London on your own." He took a deep breath, and squeezed my hand. "Let me drive you back to Ang's to get your stuff. It doesn't make sense for you to stay with her; you should be with me. I've been looking at bigger places, we can…"

"Stop, okay? Just stop." I cut him off. I needed to be honest with him, to be clear once and for all. "I'm not staying, Mike. My review is in a few days. Once I finish that, I am going to take care of a couple more things, and then going back to London. I'm not planning on staying in Chicago."

He searched my face, as a frown of disbelief clouded his usually happily demeanor. "Did you get a job there?"

I shook my head no, which only spurred him on.

"Why go back? Why not stay here?"

The need to cushion the blow was immense, but I needed to be honest. Mike deserved that.

"Because I want to go back, Mike. I belong in London. My life is there, not here."

"No, Bella, you belong here with me. I thought we…"

"Mike, stop. You aren't listening to me. You want me to be here. But you want it for you, not for me. Home is London now…"

I broke off, envisioning the space I considered home. It might not be an option for me any more, but I had to try.

"I belong in London. I'm sorry. I don't know how to say it any more plainly." I squeezed his hand, my heart sinking as the look of resignation registered on his face. "You are a lovely man, Mike. And you deserve the best. But that's not me. I know that you believe I am, and someday you'll realize that there is someone out there perfect for you. Someone who drives you crazy and spins you around and makes you feel like you've never lived before. You deserve that. And the only way you are going to find it is if you let me go."

I had a momentary flash of sitting in another coffee shop, an ocean away, having a similar conversation with a little black haired British woman who spoke of soul mates and what you faced in life to prepare you for yours. I'd come to accept that Maggie had been Edward's preparation for me. Maybe in some warped way, I'd performed the same service for Mike.

"You've met someone else, haven't you?" He didn't sound angry, simply resigned. "I can tell by what you just said. I've never seen you speak passionately like that about anything other than books. Who is it? That British guy that I saw you with outside your apartment? The big American guy that looked like a linebacker?"

The old Bella would have deferred. She would have done whatever it took to make him understand. But Mike deserved my honesty, if it would hurt him.

"Yes, I met someone else. That's why I can say with absolutely certainty that there is someone out there that will turn your world upside down in a wonderful way. Have faith, Mike. She's out there waiting for you. You _will_ find her."

He nodded, acknowledging my words. It hurt to see him try to process what he perceived as my rejection of him.

"I'll always love you in my own way, Mike. You were a huge part of my life for a long time. But neither of us are those kids any more." I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I wish you all the best in whatever you do, you know that don't you?"

Tears were forming in his eyes, and I wished just for one second that I could give him the answer he wanted. A year ago, I would have. But I wasn't that woman any longer, and could never let myself go back to that place. I didn't matter how much I cared about Mike as a person. My heart would always belong to someone else.

I kissed his cheek once more, whispered goodbye, and picked my back pack up. I didn't have the heart to look back.

Once outside, I pulled out my cell phone to call Angela. They were ten minutes away. I told her I'd meet her at the El station on Lake. A few minutes of walking and some distance from Mike would be a good thing.

As I walked, I tried to rationalize the conflicting emotions that washed over me. It made me sad to say goodbye to Mike, but as I dug into the emotions, it was purely about nostalgia. I really did hope that he would find someone to make him happy.

We all deserved to know what that crazy, all consuming love felt like.

Without thinking, I flipped open my phone and hit speed dial. The international ring sounded tinny, hollow. A long hum followed by a click. Once. Twice. Three times.

I was about to disconnect when I heard him answer.

"Edward Masen."

"Hi, Doc. You…" I was cut off by a beep. It was his voicemail.

I took a deep breath and launched in.

"You know, I'm really getting tired of talking to machines. Since this is the only way to reach you, I guess I'll just have to lay it all out here. I met with an immigration lawyer today. I'm going to file for a highly skilled migrant visa. I also have a lead on a contract job in the UK. It probably won't pay for shit, which means that I'll get to wait tables or make coffee too, but it's a start."

I took a deep breath and plowed on.

"Look, Edward, I am still pissed off at you for that stunt you pulled, and how you walked out on me. That was totally bush league, and I deserve better than that. But I also wanted to let you know that I am coming back. You can pull back and hide, whatever it is you are doing. You can run, it doesn't matter. I'll find you."

I had to smile at myself. I sounded like a mother chastising a petulant child.

"I love you. I don't always agree with your decisions, but that doesn't change how I feel about you. I don't know where your head is at in all this, but you didn't let me run and hide when I was scared, and I am not going to let you either."

I saw Angela's car stopped at the traffic light down the street; my signal to wrap it up. "My presentation is on Thursday. I'll call you when I book my return flight home."

I flipped the phone shut and leaned against a pole, waiting.

Not two minutes after I hung up, my phone vibrated. I pulled it out to see a text message from Edward.

_Good luck._

It wasn't an answer, but it was a start.


	36. Chapter 36

**Excerpt 4, Journal of Dr Edward Masen**

**Sunday, June 14**

Why do I feel like I've been here before?

I sit in the dark, replaying everything over and over. Where did I go wrong? How the hell did I let her walk away?

Who am I fooling? I didn't let her walk away, I pushed her all on my own.

Fekking idiot.

What the hell happened to us? Life has been upside down and topsy turvy since the accident. She's consumed my every moment, first with fear, then with the need to protect, then with something all together new.

I was convinced when we stepped back into the real world after Whitby, life would settle down. That we'd find a way to slip into a normal everyday type of existence.

Yet she continued to pull me deeper in. I didn't remember a time before her. And I don't think I wanted to.

Any other person would have come out of that hospital a wreck. Yes, Bella had issues, but there was something different, something stronger about her. She'd finally stopped being afraid of her shadow and had started living up to what she could be.

I watched her emotional outbursts, feeling totally helpless, knowing that there was nothing I could do. But in the next minute, I'd be grinning like an idiot, knowing that my support and encouragement helped as she hit her stride. Her confidence was breathtaking.

Ironically, helping Bella find herself may have ultimately been my undoing. I'd spent the last few weeks trying to hard to orchestrate everything around her, to keep things as low key as possible. It wasn't like I was trying to control her, more like the situation. Anything I could do to shelter her. Anything but have an actual conversation about the issue, that is.

We'd always danced on the edge of a knife, the intensity of our relationship throwing us both into a spin easily. One of us had to try and maintain some level of control.

Or at least that was how I tried to justify it to myself.

But to come home and find her standing there, like something out of a fantasy? There were no words. With one simple action, she flipped my world on its head. And then she threw it out the bloody window.

I should have kept my mouth shut and not pushed it. I should have known by the way that she initiated things that she was getting better, that she had grown, that I was worrying for nothing. But I went from having this woman in my lap, whispering every sort of dirty what not in my ear whilst giving me the best shag of my life, to basically being asked to let her go. I couldn't. Not after that.

So I reacted. I took a stupid idea and threw it at her as a last ditch attempt to buy more time. It was wrong and it was cruel. I deserved her anger.

**Tuesday, June 16**

She's gone.

I hid. I avoided her calls. I didn't answer the door.

And now she's gone.

I didn't think she'd really go.

She sent me an email, letting me know that she got to Chicago safe. She told me to call, that it wasn't too late. She left the ball in my court.

And yet all I can think, did she mean time zone or in general when she said it's not too late?

**Friday, June 19**

The pool of people speaking to me gets smaller and smaller every day.

I had lunch with Jasper, in hopes of finding out anything on Bella's progress. He hadn't spoken to her, but he had called her advisor to check in.

He'd told her advisor, Dr. Banner, about her accident and the related volatility of her moods after. Apparently Jasper had also told him that she had started to level out emotionally, but would have periodic gaps in her memory.

.

It wasn't lost on me that Jasper had shared more with her advisor more than he had with me. Apparently Bella had started to turn the corner. She made it through successful runs of her presentation and questioning without blowing up. No tears, no frustration.

Jasper said she was bloody brilliant on her last run.

I still can't understand how he could have gotten me all wound up, then failed to pass on the strides that Bella had taken. It could have changed everything. We wouldn't be in this mess.

Jasper threw it right back in my face; he refused to accept the blame, telling me that I was absolutely capable of reaching out and checking on her too. That I shouldn't have waited for him to call with any update.

In hindsight, neither of us was right, neither of us was wrong. She was getting better, and I'd missed it.

That was no one's fault but my own.

**Tuesday, June 23**

She called me, but I didn't answer. I knew it was her by the ring tone. And I want so desperately to talk, but what will I say? That I'm sorry? That I didn't mean it? This would only make things worse, because saying that I didn't really mean it when I proposed would jade any real attempt down the road.

But that assumes that I'll even have the chance. Christ, we'd never even spoken about it. She may not even believe in marriage for all I know. What a bloody fekking mess.

And that's what makes it all that much more painful. There are so many things right now that I want to know. I need to know. But nothing is more important to me than knowing that she's okay, that she's ready for what lies ahead of her.

Emmett passes me updates when he can. He knows what happened, and feels bloody awful about putting the idea of marriage out there in the first place. I told him it wasn't his fault, but he still took it hard. He sent Rose to Chicago to look out for Bella. He didn't elaborate on what he told Rose to get her there, and I have a feeling that it might

not be the whole gory mess. It's ironic in a way, Rose and I seemed cursed to constantly be at odds with each other when it comes to the people we both love.

I can only imagine what Rose thought when Bella showed up on her doorstep. But then my thoughts always shift from Rose to how Bella looked when I laid down my ultimatum. I don't think I'll ever forget. I told her I loved her. And then I walked out on her. I stood on the other side of the door and listened to her cry. I wanted so bad to go back, to say that I didn't mean it, that I lied, but my need for self preservation trumped everything.

I feel like a hypocrite to even say that I love Bella, because love shouldn't be selfish, and that's all I've been. In her eyes, I asked her to give up something she'd spent a huge portion of her life working on. I wanted her to stay with me, to be ready, not to give up. But I can understand now why she responded the way she did. In hindsight, she was the one focusing on our relationship, not me. She said she was pushing ahead for us. And what did I do? Panic because I couldn't stand her walking out the damn door. I should have let her stand on her own, and provided support and encouragement. Instead I second guessed her; made her think that she was anything less than amazing.

It was only further buttressed by her voicemail message. The choices I made would have only complicated things more. That's what comes with selfish decisions. If I simply would have let go, would have trusted that she knew what she was doing, we wouldn't be in this spot.

Christ, Mags, you taught me so many things, but how did I not learn the most important one? Why couldn't I have let go and trusted that she would come back to me? Why I am always such a self-centered git? You let go of me, why the hell couldn't I let go of her?

It may be too little, too late, but I'm doing it now. I'm letting her go. She's not by herself. She has Rose and her friend Angela. They will look out for her and protect her a hell of a lot better than I did. They'll be there if she needs them. Better that I stay away and let her do what she needs to do.

When she is done we can talk; I can try to explain what I did and why. Hopefully I can beg for forgiveness, and she'll grant me that. I don't know if I deserve it, but I have to hold out hope that she meant what she said.

In the end, the voicemail she left me gives me hope and terrifies me at the same time. Only Bella would refuse to let me hide, call me an asshole and tell me she loves me all in the same breath. It really wasn't that far off of what I'd done to her a few months ago.

She sounded so strong, so alive. I hated that she could function without me, yet was elated that she was okay.

In the end, it doesn't matter what I want. She was happy and well. She was still focused on coming back to London. She hadn't given up.

So I have two options. I can try to keep working, recognizing that my bedside manner is for shite, in an attempt to keep my mind off things. Or I can get away for a while. I can get the rest of this week away, and if not, I have no problem telling St. Guy's to sod off. I can't handle the quiet. The absence of her in my flat is too marked. Better that I get away, keep busy with something.

Anything to make the time go faster.

I may be a glutton for punishment, but I need to be in the place that has our happiest memories. The place that belongs only to us. The place that always held the best of me.

Maybe being there will be that final little karmic push to bring her back. Just for once, maybe I should put my faith in the lunacy that my sister spouts. If we are meant to be, we will be. And the wisest thing I can do to make that happen is to be in the one place where we were the best.

Emmett will keep me posted as to Bella's progress. He'll know where I am and how to reach me. He'll let me know how she does, and he'll let me know when she's coming home.

It didn't escape me that she said home. But I can't assume, can't infer. I may have gone too far, assumed too much. No more assuming. Unless I hear it directly out of her mouth, or see her do something, I am not forming any opinions. That's what got us in this spot to begin with.

She needs to focus on her presentation. I didn't support her in that before, but I can do it now. I won't be a distraction. I'll let her know that I got her message and wish her luck. I want to say more, but that would only take us back down a road that won't help right now.

A simple text of good luck to show my support. I wish I could say more. But she'll at least know that I care.

I keep turning her message over and over in my head. I can't be one hundred percent sure what she meant, but it gives me hope for what comes next.

I pray that there is a next. I want to see her, standing on the hill looking over the ocean, laughing at something stupid or provocative while we wait for the storm to roll in. I promised her I'd take her back. I can only hope that she'll feel the same.


	37. Chapter 37

_Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants to explain all, and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing to explain. But yet we see around us every day the growth of new beliefs, which think themselves new, and which are yet but the old, which pretend to be young, like the fine ladies at the opera._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 27 - A Million and One Uses**

"Come on, Bella! We need to go or you'll be late!"

I glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was 11:30 on Thursday morning. Two hours to go.

Lacing my fingers together, I rotated my hands palm out to crack my knuckles. Taking a deep breath, I glanced at myself in the mirror once more before grabbing my backpack off the chair and making my way to the kitchen.

"Okay, let's blow this popsicle stand," I called from the doorway.

Rose and Angela looked up, expectant smiles on their faces.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Rose asked as she surveyed my outfit.

"What? It's just a suit." I looked down, checking to see what was wrong. "I got it last year, I thought it was cute."

"Around your waist, Bella." Rose pointed, "What the hell is around your waist?"

I reached down involuntarily to fiddle with the woven silk that I'd slipped through the loops of my pants and tied in a loose knot. "It's a sash, Rose."

"No, it's a men's tie, Bella. You are not little miss fashion forward, so what gives?"

I looked away from her, knowing that she would see right through me. "It's for good luck."

Rose didn't say anything. She didn't need to. We both knew who the tie belonged to.

"Come on. Let's go. I don't want to get stuck in traffic!" Angela called from the garage door. "I am so excited!"

"You really need to get out more," I mumbled as I followed Rose out to the mini van. While I appreciated Angela's enthusiasm, my nerves were starting to get the better of me.

"Stop being grumpy and get in the zone. We'll talk to you in a few hours," Rose directed from the front seat.

She was right. I was nervous, which made me snappy. I pulled out my notes and tried to focus on the key points I needed to deliver. But I couldn't stop the thoughts that ran through my mind. 120 minutes until I would give my dissertation defense. 180 minutes from being done. I'd go into that room, Bella Swan. I'd come out Bella Swan, Ph.D.

Dr. Swan.

Dr. Masen.

Damnit Bella! Stop it. Stop thinking about him and focus on the task at hand.

I scanned through my presentation notes, trying to center my thoughts on Mina, Lucy, and the Weird Sisters. Anything but Edward Masen.

The ride downtown was quiet. Rose and Angela kept conversation to a minimum in the hopes of not creating a diversion. I gave up on trying to cram in any last thoughts, choosing instead to look at the window as the scenery flew by. The urban jungle that spread out before me was a radical departure from the green lushness of Whitby. It seemed such a dichotomy, almost like the industrial appeal of London as contrasted to the sparse habitation of Transylvania.

So much of my life had been about dichotomies. It was finally time to put that to rest. I knew where I wanted to go. One path forward was all I wanted.

"We're here," Angela announced as we pulled up to the curb.

I let myself out of the car, waving in acknowledgement as they promised to meet me in the class room. Rose and Angela knew me; they understood where my head was at right now. They understood that it was better to leave me alone right now.

Making my way across campus, I couldn't help but recall all the times I'd wandered across the campus at Kings. Someday soon, I would do it again, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. It was a strange sensation, having such a strong sense of closure when my future was truly uncertain. I guess love and faith gave you that.

The room was empty when I let myself in. A podium was set up in the front, wired for sound and audio visual. I had toyed with putting together a PowerPoint presentation, but given the time period in which the story was written, it hadn't felt appropriate.

"Hello, Bella," Dr. Banner called out from behind me. He stood in the doorway with two other members of the department. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes sir, thank you."

"Take your time; you let us know when you are ready."

They settled into seats in the second row. I noticed that Dr. Banner held a printed copy of my dissertation. The two others held notepads and looked bored.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I know this. I can do this. It's just a formality.

"Thank you, Dr. Banner, for arranging this today. My name is Bella Swan, and I'd like to spend some time explaining my arguments regarding the use of sexuality in Bram Stoker's _Dracula_, as outlined in my dissertation, Deconstructing Dracula and the Victorian Sexual Archetype."

Without a glance back, I launched in. For thirty minutes I spoke non stop about the story, the character evolution, and how in crafting such flawed female characters, Bram Stoker actually skewered the Victorian sensibilities regarding sexuality as opposed to supporting them.

I focused on Dr. Banner, gauging his reactions as I presented my points.

And for the first time in days, I felt free, strong. Confident in me and who I could be.

If Emmett were here, he'd be fist pumping in the back row and shouting "Rock that shit!" And Edward would be sitting beside him, cheek resting against his fist with an amused expression.

They both would have been proud of me.

When I finished with my summary, Dr. Banner nodded his head appreciatively. "Well done, Bella. We'd like to pose a few questions now. Dr. Cope, would you like to start?"

His deference was to an older woman on his left with a pinched expression. She glanced at her notepad before looking back up at me.

"Ms. Swan, you make an argument for the women in Dracula holding all the power, even though Victorian sensibilities recognized women as significantly inferior. The reality is that the men were the ones that truly held sway over the events in the book. How can you justify that Mina and Lucy were truly the influencers?"

I took a deep breath before launching in. "Thank you for the question Dr. Cope. While the male protagonists were the primary actors, their actions were set off by the choices or lack thereof by Mina and Lucy. Dr Seward and Quincey's actions were a direct response to their love for Lucy. Quincey's subsequent death was a derivative of that. He sacrificed everything that he had to see that no one else had to experience what Lucy did."

Just like Rose had when she told me when she refused to let Royce's family threaten Emmett.

Dr. Cope's retort was quick. "Lucy may have set off a chain of events, but those actions were accidental, the by product of her selfish nature. I don't see how you can justify her actions as being the driver for everything in the book."

"They weren't intentional, Dr. Cope, yet they did set in motion the circumstances in which the male protagonists, and Mina for that matter, found themselves. Our actions are often driven by our insecurities or poor decisions. Even then we can still influence the actions of others in a way that may totally change how things might happen."

Like Edward giving me an ultimatum. It had all been there when he said he couldn't handle me leaving and not coming back. It wasn't really an ultimatum, it never had been. It was simply his way of asking me not to leave. He didn't mean to push me away.

Their questions continued, each one probing deeper. The more they asked, the more it pulled me down into the morass that had been my life for the past six months. The desire, the deceit, the confusion, the love.

As rapid fire discussion continued, I felt myself buffeting back and forth between my dissertation and my life. The path of destruction was wider than I realized.

In my attempt to be so absolute in my life, I'd only made things worse. And the realization of how my actions had hurt others was devastating.

"So what you are saying, Ms. Swan is that the inherent sexual overtures of Lucy as a vampire were muddied by her actions as a human?" Dr. Cope refused to give up,

continuing to pound on the dichotomy of Lucy's actions as a human versus those of a vampire.

Focusing, I picked up the book I had laying on the podium, and flipped it open. I knew exactly the page I needed.

"When they find Lucy, after she's been changed, she does use sexuality as a way to lure in Arthur, to try and establish control. If you'll bear with me…" I stated reading aloud from the book

_She still advanced, however, and with a languorous voluptuous grace, said: - 'Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my husband, come!'_

_There was something diabolically sweet in her tones - something of the tingling of glass when struck - which rang through the brains even of us who heard the words addressed to another. As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell; moving his hands from his face, he opened wide his arms."_

"One could argue that there are blatantly sexual inferences in statements like 'my arms are hungry for you' or 'we can rest together.' Yet at the same time, it's the use of the term husband that is telling. The emotional tie is just as strong as the sexual one. Had had Edward not loved me; I would have had significantly less sway over him."

And all the pieces finally fell into place. My seduction scene had sparked a chain of events. I had tied together love and lust and turned it around in Edward's mind. From his perspective, it all made sense now. I wanted him to make him understand how I felt, but instead of showing him how I loved him, I made him feel out of control and scared. The very thing he had been afraid of for me.

Oh god, what had I done?

As if picking up on my distress, Dr. Banner cut Dr. Cope off before she could ask another question.

"Thank you, Bella. If you could give us twenty minutes please?" He inclined his head towards the door.

Understanding his dismissal, I picked up my notes let myself out of the class room. Angela and Rose were waiting for me in the hallway.

"Hey! How are you feeling?" Rose held an arm out to me, and I accepted the hug gratefully.

"Baked. Tired. Seriously in need of a drink."

"Can we go?" Angela asked, glancing at her watch.

"I can't, not yet. The committee will meet and discuss, then call me back in to give me their decision." I sat down on a bench against the wall. "God, I feel like I was losing it there at the end. It all just felt so real all of a sudden, and I couldn't keep it together."

"Bella, after all you've been through, I am impressed you even got to this point! There is no way I could have done that!"

"You could have Rose. You are more courageous about this stuff than I am."

"This has nothing to do with courage, and everything to do with what you've been through in the last few months. Anyone else would have curled up and hidden away. But you plowed right on ahead. It was amazing!"

"Plowed ahead, but I sure left one hell of a wake," I shot back. It was all to close to the surface right now. I needed a breather. "Why don't you all go on ahead to the bar? I'll meet you there when this is done."

Angela had stepped away to retrieve voicemail messages. She returned with a curious expression on her face.

"Who would send you flowers, Bella? There was a voice mail from the neighbor saying that there was an arrangement left at their house for you."

I glanced at Rose. There was only one person who would have sent flowers.

"Do you know what they were, Ang?"

"She said it was a little vase with a single rose in it. No card."

I snorted a laugh. Probably hard to get wild roses in Chicago.

"Make sure you have a cold drink ready for me, will you? I don't think I'll be long."

"Are you sure you want us to go?" Rose stood, but there was hesitation in her question.

"Yeah, I'll be okay." I held up the cell phone she had given me. "It's not like you don't know where to find me."

"True that." She leaned down to give me a quick hug. "I'm proud of you. You accomplished what you set out to do and then some."

"We'll see, Rose, but thank you."

She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and followed Angela out of the building.

Once they were gone, I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes. The quiet was a balm for my frayed nerves, and I lost myself in the relative peace of the empty corridor. I didn't replay the events of the presentation. What was done was done. No point in belaboring them now.

Instead, I let myself go back to Whitby. To a wonderful day spent exploring the ruins of an abbey and the foundation of a fledgling relationship. I thought about the promises we made, the acknowledgement of what could be.

Never in my life had I missed someone as much as I did Edward at that moment. I should have been victorious, ecstatic. And yet it felt hollow due to the mistakes we'd all made.

"Bella?"

Dr. Banner stood in the open door of the lecture hall. He held his palm up, indicating that I should stay seated.

"That's not a good sign." I observed as he joined me on the bench.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Tired. That was rather exhausting."

"I can only imagine. I have to admit that I was surprised that you decided to take this on so soon after your injury."

I frowned at him, unnerved. I hadn't told Dr. Banner anything about what had happened in London.

"Dr. Whitlock called to apprise me of a potential delay when you were in the hospital. He also called a few days ago to check in on you, and mentioned that you had been having a bit of a tough go with your recovery."

Shaking my head in disbelief, I looked away so that Dr. Banner wouldn't see the tears that had begun to form. Even here they tried to protect me.

"He was very concerned about you, Bella. I couldn't stop you from going through with your presentation, but I have to agree with him. You should have waited a bit longer."

Dr. Banner's words had a finality to them that cut like a knife. So Edward had been right after all. I hadn't been ready.

"So what do I have to do to resubmit?" I asked, the disappointment evident in my tone.

"Nothing. You don't have to resubmit."

"I'm sorry?" He'd clearly told me that I hadn't been ready. Had I been that bad?

"Bella, your written work was brilliant. Some of the best original thought I've seen in years. Yes, your oral defense got a bit shaky at the end, but it wasn't a reflection of your logic or your intellect." He smiled and squeezed my knee. "I would have preferred if you had waited, but honestly, I probably would have done the same thing if I were you. You've spent your life working toward this point. I am not going to penalize you for getting a bit feisty with Dr. Cope or accidentally calling Arthur Edward."

He removed his hand, and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket. "Dr. Cope took a bit of convincing, but in the end, she saw the light. Congratulations, Dr. Swan."

He held his hand out, the folde 11 piece of paper there for me to grab.

"Take this to the Graduate school office and drop your water marked copies off for binding. Once you take care of that, you'll be on your way."

Dr. Banner waited for me to take the paper from him before standing. "I've taken the liberty of emailing a colleague of mine who is working on a book about Victorian literature. He needs someone to help him with research. I thought it might be a good thing for you while you look for a job. A way to make ends meet."

"Thank you, Dr. Banner. I don't know what to say." I was touched by the sincerity of his actions. "But I am not planning on staying in the states."

"Victorian Literature, Bella. He's not in the States." Dr. Banner turned back to the lecture hall. "Dr. Whitlock gave me the impression that you might be heading back to the UK. Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to go grab a late lunch."

The minute the door to the lecture hall closed, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I'd done it.

And I succeeded. It had been far from flawless, but I'd pulled it off.

I stared at the paper in my hand. Emmett was right; a piece of paper wasn't the solution to all my questions or problems. But it was a representation of an accomplishment. One that I'd spent the last ten years of my life working towards. I couldn't help but feel good about it

Thirty minutes later, Angela, Rose and I stood in the center of the same dive bar that we'd drank in as underclassmen. The first bottle of cheap champagne had been quickly polished off and Rose had already placed the request for a second.

"Slow down, Rose! Champagne hangovers are the worst!" Angela cautioned her.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, Ang! We are celebrating! You are just crabby because you are the DD!"

I sat quietly, listen to them banter back and forth. It was strange; I would have expected to be bouncing off the walls with excitement over finally succeeding. Instead, I felt oddly introspective and calm

"So, Dr. Swan. Just a little something for you…" Angela pulled a white envelope out of her purse and handed it to me. Rose stood beside her, trying to fight back a smile.

"What's this?"

"Just open it, damnit!" Rose commanded.

"Are you in on this too?"

She smiled back at me innocently. "It was my idea actually."

I pulled a folded piece of paper out of the envelope and flipped it open.

"You have thirty-six hours to get your shit in order babe. Then it's time for us to go home."

I held in my hand an itinerary. Business class on Continental, Saturday morning nonstop to Heathrow.

"You guys, I can't accept this. It must have cost a fortune."

"Um, no. It's just your ticket, moved up to Saturday. We pooled our Amex points to get you into biz class. I didn't think it was fair for you to be stuck in steerage while I flew back with free drinks."

Rose took a drink from her glass, and then threw an arm around my shoulder.

"Look, Bella, I don't have your perspective on what happened with you and the good Doctor, and you know that he and I don't have any love lost for each other. But Emmett called me last night and came clean on the natural disaster that he helped create. I think he meant well, but apparently it was his brilliant idea that spurred Eddie boy into proposing."

Angela choked on the sip of Diet Coke she'd just taken. "You said she met the love of her life in London, not that he proposed? What the hell Rose?"

"Step off, Ang. I didn't find that detail out until last night. Besides, I want to hear it from the horse's mouth." Rose reached out to grab the paper from my hand. "You can have this back _after_ you spill it. What the hell happened the night you showed up at my place?"

There was no way she'd let me dodge the questions. With Angela to back her up and holding the car keys, I was literally and figuratively at their mercy.

"Well, the first part of the night went well…" I hoped that she would have forgotten what I had planned; it was the last thing I wanted to talk about right now.

"So the dress worked, eh? Did he jump you the minute he walked in the door?"

"It didn't work out quite like that. I, well…let's just say that a lot of things spun out of control that night, and in hindsight, I think I was the one that set the whole thing off."

"Somehow I doubt that. You were a mess when you showed up at my place, and I highly doubt that it was self-induced."

"What do you want me to say Rose? That I basically seduced him? That I acted totally out of character, which confused the hell out of him? I just wanted to make him feel like I did, but he saw it as a byproduct of the accident. And then when I mentioned coming back here, he lost it."

"Lost it how?" Angela asked, immediately on the defensive. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, no he'd never do that. He didn't want me to come back to the States yet, and tried to convince me to wait until the fall. He thought I couldn't handle it. Honestly, a few weeks ago he was probably right. And maybe I should have waited a bit longer, but it's all water under the bridge now. I did it and I don't regret it. I felt like it was something I owed to myself, you know?"

"So what about the proposal?" Rose was like a dog on a scent, and wouldn't let up. "Did he have a ring and everything?"

I shook my head, refusing to let the scene play out again. "It wasn't that sort of a proposal. He threw it out as a way to help me to stay in the country. I think once it was out there he realized how it came across. But then it was too late. He was too mad, and I was too hurt. And it just went downhill from there."

"Oh Bella, why didn't you tell me?" I'd expected Rose to be angry at Edward, to go on a tirade about what a jerk he was. Yet her focus was solely on me. "I know how much you care about him. I can't believe he did this to you again…"

"It wasn't just him, Rose. I helped make this mess too. Hell, we are both at fault in our own ways. I just wish that he would talk to me. He walked out of the flat that night and I haven't seen or spoken to him since."

"Not once?" Angela gasped. "But I thought he proposed!"

"He did. Then he told me if I left, he wouldn't wait and walked out."

"Son of a bitch," Rose muttered under her breath. She had already whipped out her cell phone.

"Rose, no…"

"Hey you fucking redneck. You kind of left out a few details, didn't you?"

Angela's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. I rolled my eyes and waved it off.

"This is their idea of a healthy relationship."

We listened as Rose ranted and raved at Emmett about what he'd left out. After a bit, I found myself actually feeling sorry for the poor guy.

When she hung up, she threw her phone on the bar with disgust.

"That fucking idiot. I swear if I didn't love him I'd kill him." She scraped her hair back into a ponytail, and then knotted it at the nape of her neck. "They've been talking everyday. While Edward might not be taking _your_ calls, he is checking in with Benedict Redneck frequently to get updates."

Rose continued to rant about men and their juvenile behavior. But all I could focus on was that Edward hadn't given up. He'd let me stand on my own, fight my own battles. But he never stepped away.

Rose grabbed the itinerary off the bar and handed it to me.

"Hold this up."

I took the paper from her, and looked down at it, confused.

"No you idiot, hold it up so that I can see what it says. To the side so I can see your body."

I followed Rose's directions, not sure where she was headed.

She retrieved her phone and held it up as if to take my picture. "I heard you left quite a going away note. According to Emmett, the post script was epic and has someone all turned all around."

"What did you say?" Angela asked, not quite following our back and forth.

"That she refused to accept his ultimatum. Our girl Bella grew some balls in London." I couldn't help but laugh at her comment and Rose chose that moment to snap the picture.

"Perfect," she mumbled as she tapped on her keypad.

"What are you up to, Rose?" Her mumbling and the picture were making me nervous.

She tossed her phone back on the counter. "Since he won't take your calls, I thought I'd be the one to fire the warning shot. Who said it had to be with a gun? A camera works just as well."

"What did you do?" Her enthusiasm was making me nervous.

"I sent the picture to Emmett, along with a message. He's going to forward it to Edward."

We stared at each other for a long time. She looked pleased as punch. I probably looked terrified.

"What did it say?" Angela asked impatiently.

"That Bella was heading back to London, and even though he was a total git, she kept him with her the entire time."

I self consciously reached down to fiddle with the blue silk.

"Oh, that is so romantic!" Angela gushed. "Is that really his tie?"

The best I could do was nod.

"Let's get out of here. You need to wrap your shit up so that we can go home." Rose grabbed her purse. "And let's grab some real hooch on the way. We have a lot of things to celebrate. Not the least of which is you finally being done with school."

I followed them out of the bar, replaying the day's events in my head. It was all a blur, and I hadn't fully processed how I felt about everything.

But there was thing I was sure of. Rose was right. It was time to go home.


	38. Chapter 38

_Seven years ago we all went through the flames. And the happiness of some of us since then is, we think, well worth the pain we endured._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 28 - Back to Where We Lasted**

The ten hour return to London was agony. I was restless, and fidgeted in my seat constantly. Nothing provided a distraction. Rose tried to ply me with drinks in the hopes of taking the edge off, but I didn't want to be hung over when we landed.

I was wound up enough already; I didn't need alcohol to complicate things.

Emmett met us at the baggage claim. Rose went running into his arms, and he spun her around like he hadn't seen her for a month.

A far cry from the last time I was here, when a strange British man in an expensive suit helped me retrieve the scattered remnants of my backpack.

We'd both come a long way since then. It hadn't been easy, and it hadn't been without pain. But I'd finally come to the realization that, even through everything that happened, it had been worth it.

Emmett was whispering in Rose's ear, and she was laughing in response. I knew that I should be happy for them. But my mind was a million miles away, too focused on what I needed to do.

"I'm good, you guys. You go do your thing; I'll take a cab to Edward's."

Emmett's smile was sheepish and sad. "He's not there, Bella."

"What do you mean, he's not there? Is he working?" It was awkward to realize that right now, Emmett knew more about Edward's life than I did.

"He isn't in London."

I'd spent the flight mentally preparing myself for what came next. I had it all mapped out in my head, what I'd say, what I'd do. But I'd forgotten one critical thing. Edward needed to be around for me to do it.

As if sensing my confusion, Emmett slipped his arm around me. "We are going back to Rose's. I want you to take a shower and get cleaned up, and then I'm driving you north. We can talk on the way."

"North?" I was confused. "Where is he, Em?"

"He went home Bella. He's in Whitby."

I could feel my resolve slip away. Of all the scenarios I had played out, not once had I considered that he would go back to Whitby. And the insecure remnants of the old me came floating to the surface. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed it all back down. I'd come too far to give into that now. I wasn't going to run and hide because I was afraid. Once upon a time I might have, but not anymore.

"Come on, we need to get a move on." Emmett grabbed my suitcase in one hand, Rose's carry on in the other. "I have food in the car already. Shower and we are back on the road."

"We?" I sounded like a dim child.

"Yep, I have instructions to get you home, in the shower, and then all three of us are heading north. The Cullens have been warned that the savages were descending."

I was too tired, to addled to process anything more, and followed Emmett and Rose through the terminal to parking. Our drive through London was quiet, and I used the time to try and clear my head. It would be too easy to give in to my imagination.

Better not to think, to try and relax and gather myself.

"I've got your bags. You two go hit the shower." Emmett instructed as he pulled up in front of the building. "I'm giving you one hour. I want to be on the road by 10:30 at the latest."

"Did you know about this?" I asked Rose as I followed her into the apartment.

"Bits and pieces, not all. I think Emmett is legitimately trying to make right the mess he made."

"He had help, Rose. It's not all his fault."

"True, but he needs to fix what he can. He meant well, but dabbling when he should have gone straight to you was not the right thing to do. Now go hit the shower. I'll

have Em put your suitcase in the extra room. There is a duffle bag in there if you want to downsize."

What I really wanted was to stay, to ask more, to try and understand. But a slight nudge towards the bathroom indicated that she wouldn't tolerate any hesitance.

An hour later, we were showered, dressed, and I'd shoved clothes and a small white box into a duffle. Just like my first trip to Whitby, I threw things in haphazardly, not paying attention to whether clothes matched or fit. So long as I had that box, nothing else mattered.

Emmett threw our bags in the back next to his, and I crawled in next to them. A bag of sandwiches, chips and junk food sat on the floor behind his seat.

"Share the wealth; I'll talk as I drive." Emmett instructed as he navigated Saturday morning traffic.

He didn't launch in to conversation until we were well outside of London.

"Look, Bella, I don't know how to begin to apologize for what happened. I know that you were pissed off about us talking behind your back, but you have to understand that we really meant well."

Strangely, I didn't feel the same flare of anger I had when Edward had said something similar. Maybe it was time, maybe it was proximity. Maybe it was the context.

"I just wish one of you would have said something to me instead of plotting behind my back."

"That's not fair." Emmett glanced back at me in the rearview mirror. "I did try and talk to you, you know? That day at Rose's."

"And I told you I was fine, didn't I? Did you think I was lying, Em?"

He was quiet for a few minutes, processing his thoughts.

"I didn't know what to think, Bella. You were having melt downs left and right from what I heard. You kept your cool that day, but you seemed different somehow, and it worried me."

"Tell me how, Emmett? How was I different? Because I pushed? Because I didn't give in to what you guys wanted?"

"Yeah, that was a lot of it."

I shook my head and looked out the window. "Emmett, hadn't you both been encouraging me to stand up for what I wanted, to not back down? That's exactly what I did."

Emmett sighed and ran his hand across his jaw. "I realize that now, Bella. At the time, I was so focused on what I perceived to be your volatility and your recent accident that I didn't take into account the changes that had started before hand. Neither did he."

At last. We'd finally reached the 800 pound gorilla in the room.

"The emotional volatility was legit, Em. I'll give you that. But I had a handle on it before I went to Chicago. Jasper wouldn't have given me the thumbs up if I hadn't been ready."

"Yeah, that is a little bone of contention amongst their family right now. I feel sorry for both Edward and Jasper, as it sounds like Alice reamed both of them. Edward for pulling what he did, Jasper for getting everyone wound up, then failing to communicate the emotional improvements that he saw in the last week. I think Edward lit into Jasper pretty badly. He needed someone to lash out at, and Jasper was an easy target."

I shook my head and looked at the window, not sure to feel about that fact.

"Look, Bella, Em fucked up. But I think it was out of legitimate concern. Hell, it was for all of them. They weren't trying to control or hurt you."

"I know that, Rose. And I realize that I exacerbated the situation. I managed to find a way to become comfortable in my own skin here, which included a lot of changes. I think ultimately that was just as much of a contributor as anything Em could have said. There are also some things that Edward needed to deal with that fed the situation. No one was completely innocent, yet no one was totally culpable either."

Using water as an excuse to be quiet for a moment, I took a sip, and focused on screwing the top back on the bottle.

"Something changed that night, Em. Something…oh hell, I don't know…it's like it flipped. I feel like in a way, I sucked the strength right out of him."

Emmett snorted a laugh. "You really need to diversify your reading list. No one can do anything to you that you don't allow. You both had some shit to figure out. It sounds like you have yours covered. And last time I talked to Edward, he was getting there. Now you two need to put the past behind you and move on."

"When did you become Yoda?" I teased.

"Do or do not, there is no try," Emmett responded with a grin.

I flipped him the bird and went back to looking out the window. It sounded melodramatic, but it Emmett was right. Would it be possible for us to leave what happened behind and find a middle ground? Somewhere that we could both be the best of who we were, and bring out the best in each other?

Rose seemed to pick up on my need for introspection, and distracted Emmett with stories about work. I had every intention of stewing on what Emmett had revealed, but the long flight, the nerves, and the adrenaline crash had other plans. I quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

"Hey, Bella. Wake up. We are here sleepy head."

Rose was gently shaking my arm. I looked around, slightly discombobulated as to where we were.

A large sandstone building loomed in front of me. The front door was open, a petite pretty woman with light brown hair stood in the doorway.

We were at Dunsley Hall.

I sat up, looking around the courtyard.

There was no black Aston Martin.

"Oh, Bella, honey I am so happy to see you." Esme held her arms out to me. I don't know why, but I rushed into them like a long lost friend. She rocked me back and forth gently, smoothing my hair down.

"I told you that you'd always be welcome here," she whispered to me. "You room is all made up. Go drop off your things."

I let her rock me back and forth for a few more minutes, enjoying the sense of calm and peace.

"Esme, I need to find him."

"Honey, think. You know exactly where he is."

Shaking my head, I had to laugh. We'd come full circle yet again.

"The only thing that could make this more ironic would be if he got lost in the maze and cut his hand."

She smiled and squeezed me once more before letting me go. "He'd never get lost in the maze, he knows it too well. And while he didn't cut his hand, he did leave a nice divot in the wall one evening after a phone call from Jasper. Damn hot tempered boy."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Emmett chimed in.

I apologized to Esme, and introduced her to Rose and Emmett. She immediately went to Emmett and gave him a huge hug.

"I've heard all about you. I've been told I am supposed to call you Redneck. Roll with it, okay?" Esme turned to Rose, reaching out to touch her face. "The beautiful, brave, loyal Rosalie. Edward's description didn't do you justice."

It's rare to see Rose speechless, yet in that moment, she truly was. Emmett slipped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, whispering something in her ear. She buried his head in his chest in response.

My friends were happy. They had figured it out. Things were finally falling into place. And now it was time for me to do the same thing.

"Esme," I interrupted, impatient to get moving. "I need to go find him, but I don't think I am a spot where I can drive yet. As embarrassing as it is, would you mind dropping me off in town?"

"Carlisle went round back to get a car when we heard you pull up. Drop your bag upstairs, by the time you get back down he should be ready to go."

Curiosity made me want to ask how Carlisle knew I couldn't drive. But common sense trumped. Edward would have discussed my injuries with Carlisle. They were both physicians. It was human nature.

And Carlisle, just like Edward, would take it upon himself to step in and provide a safe option. Damn doctors.

I grabbed the duffle bag out of the back of Emmett's car, and ran up the steps to my room.

Our room.

There was a shirt draped over the back of a chair. A vase of wild roses on the mantle. And the marked up copy or Rebecca lying just where I remembered it.

A note was propped up against the vase, handwriting I'd recognize anywhere;

_I lied. Please come back to me._

Tossing my bag on the bed, I dug until I found the small white box I stashed inside. My safe deposit box had held everything in the world that had legal or emotional value to me. Including this.

Holding it tight in my hand, I ran downstairs, shouting out a rushed goodbye. I didn't wait for a response.

A white Land Rover idled in the courtyard. Carlisle sat in the driver's seat, sporting dark sun glasses and a polo shirt. The image was quite at odds with the last time I'd seen him.

"You look rather urban chic. What happened to the country gentleman look?" I teased as I climbed in the car.

"The country gentleman played golf this morning. You ready to knock that lummox upside the head a few times? I am tired of him moping around my house. He's drinking all the good scotch."

Our drive down into Whitby was quiet. I'd half expected Carlisle to launch in with the questions. How was I, what had happened, how could I have left Edward and gone back to the States. All the things that I would have asked the woman who ran off and left a path of destruction in her wake.

But Carlisle didn't say a word. He drove through town and up the hill to the ruins. He didn't acknowledge my clear anxiety as I fidgeted in the seat, drummed my fingers on the armrest, or sighed anxiously.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I saw Edward's car, sitting alone at the end of the row. It was framed by dark clouds on the horizon.

"He promised me that I would get to watch a storm roll in off the sea. He has to make good on that promise." I whispered to myself.

The moment the car stopped, I threw open the door, ready to run up the hill towards the hulking ruin in front of me.

"He loves you, Bella." Carlisle called after me. "More than I think he understands or is comfortable with. He doesn't know how to feel out of control. But he also doesn't know who he is if he's not with you."

"We're a good pair then, Carlisle. I'm not sure how often I'm in control. Maybe that's why we balance out."

Carlisle pulled away, leaving me in the parking lot by myself.

I stared up at the abbey, taking in the empty windows and jagged rocks. It was just as dark and foreboding as it had been the last time we were here. But that was the only thing that stayed the same. This time, I wasn't here to chase my own personal demons. I was looking for salvation.

I could see him, sitting in the grass close to the cliff's edge. His arms were extended behind him in support as he leaned back. The wind ruffled his hair, tossing it gently to and fro in the breeze.

Thousands of miles and hours of thinking, and I wasn't sure how to approach him.

Just as I was about to call out, a song broke the silence of the late afternoon. It was tinny, as if the speaker on the cell phone couldn't do Lenny Kravitz justice.

Edward sat up, and flipped open the phone.

"Are you here? Is she on her way?"

"She's right behind you."

Edward's head whipped in my direction, the phone dropping from his ear.

"I'm guessing by the fact that you asked 'is she on her way' and the American Woman ring tone that you are talking to Rose. We can call her back."

Edward flipped the phone shut and dropped it on the grass beside him. He didn't move to stand, but his eyes never left my face.

"Actually, it was Esme. Rose is Barracuda." A hint of a smile played across his face.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" I asked, not waiting for him to grant permission. I dropped down onto the grass, bending my knees, and crossing my ankles. My arms went around my legs involuntarily, more out of a need for somewhere to place them than for a sense of protection. My left hand grasped my right wrist to form a loop. My free hand was squeezed into a fist to protect the precious item I'd pulled from my bag.

Neither of a spoke for a long time. We stared at each other, taking in the changes, some easily visible, others inferred.

"You don't look like a doctor. Where's your stethoscope?"

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. A kid said it to me at the hospital a few weeks ago. I promised myself that I'd use it on you sometime."

"That's pretty lame, Edward."

"Consider the source material, Isabella."

We lapsed into another awkward silence.

"Look…" He started, but I cut him off.

"No, me first. I've had almost a full day of traveling to figure this out, so let me go first."

I shifted, so that I could lean my head against his shoulder, and closed my eyes.

"You were partially right, and you were partially wrong," I started, my voice shaking a bit. "I did pretty damn well. Except for when I screwed up and said Edward instead of Arthur. Fortunately my advisor stopped me before I could really fuck up."

"That wouldn't have been when you were talking about him stabbing Lucy in the heart, would it?"

"No. Actually, it was just before that, when Lucy was trying to lure Arthur in. Good thing Dr. Banner caught it and stepped in, or else I might have ended up telling everyone that I shagged you senseless." I paused, debating how to continue. "Look, Edward, I never stopped to think about how things looked from your perspective. I probably would have questioned some of my rather out of character actions too."

"I was so torn, Bella. I was walking a fine line between what I saw in you and what I'd been told by others."

"Did you really think that if I left that I wouldn't come back?"

He sighed and shifted his gaze out to the horizon. "It was never an issue of thinking you didn't want to come back. It was what would happen if you couldn't"

I sat quietly, waiting for him to continue.

"So you are Dr. Swan now, eh?"

"Yes I am. I am also Dr. Swan who has an in person interview about a research position at a literary foundation in London on Wednesday. I did a short phone interview with them yesterday morning, and it seems like a good fit."

"I'm glad for you. It sounds like everything is falling into place like you said it would. I should have had more faith in you when you said that it would all work out."

There was another lull in conversation as we watched the waves break.

Taking a deep breath, I decided that it was time to lay it all on the line. "I don't know if everything is falling into place. Yes, I got my doctorate, but it felt hollow without you there. I kept imagining what you would have looked like if you'd been there. But it's probably a good thing that you weren't."

I reached down to pull out a handful of grass. Extending my arm, I opened my palm so that the wind could catch the blades and carry them away.

"One of the last questions they hit me with was about sexual and emotional manipulation. I'd been thinking a lot over the previous days as to how much our relationship paralleled relationships in the book, and my response really crystallized something about us. I accused you of manipulating me emotionally, and I do still think in a way that you did, but I realize now that it was never malicious. More out of self preservation than anything."

I pulled up another tuft of grass and extended my palm, letting the blades float away. Maybe it was a naïve way of trying to let the fear and hurt go with it.

"But I also get now that I was just as bad. You were worried about me, and my actions that night probably came off as completely crazy, and my response after just as

manipulative. I couldn't see it until I had the distance and perspective to think rationally."

My hand dropped back to the ground, fisting into the grass. "All I wanted to do that night was make you feel like I did. I wanted to throw you off balance and make you experience what it felt like to be out of control and totally consumed. Make you realize how much I really did love you. And in doing that, I made things a thousand times worse than they should have been. And then I couldn't reach you, and I couldn't not go back, because if I didn't go back, then we couldn't go forward."

The words were spilling out faster now, and tears filled my eyes. It hurt to admit my culpability in everything. But I had to in order to make things right again.

"When I was in Chicago, I came to realize how much my life here, my time with you, has changed everything about me. I've never really stood up to anyone before I met you. Rose, but that was really it. I never had the courage to do things on my own, or to take the big risks. That's all because of you. You make me want to live, Edward. To go outside of the safe zone, color outside the lines, I don't care how you say it. You've given me the strength to dig in and try. I never had that before. I am the person sitting here today because of your influence."

Giving a sharp tug, I pulled another chunk of grass up, but Edward's hand on my wrist prevented me from releasing it into the wind.

"Is this the sitting outdoors variation of peeling the label off a beer bottle?" He asked quietly.

I laughed and shook my head. "I guess I am a little nervous."

"Don't be." He released my wrist, and pulled his knees up to mirror my posture. "I probably have just as much, if not more reason to be nervous. I was a git, and I handled everything wrong. I'd gotten all wound up from talking with Jasper, and never stopped to check in on your progress. I didn't realize that you were doing better, and hit the panic button when I thought you might leave. He had me so worried that you would fail and be stuck in the States and that I'd lose you…"

"Like you lost Maggie." I finished the sentence for him.

"Initially, yes. But then I realized that I was using Maggie as a bit of an excuse. I never had to give up anything, never had to sacrifice. I slotted you into my life easily. You were the one giving up everything, taking 98% of the risks. The only risk I ever had was losing you, and I pretty much messed that one up on my own. That's when I

realized that I you are a scrapper and that there were things in your life that predated me that you needed to do. I may not have offered to give up my country or my home, but I gave up my stupid immature need to hold on to you so tight that you'd never get to fly."

He stared out at the horizon for a long time. I could see the muscle working in his jaw, and I knew enough to realize that he was processing his thoughts. He'd talk when he was ready.

"I've always been in control, Bella. I save people. I always have the answers. But I don't have any of that when I am with you. And it doesn't matter. But it's scary to have faith in that when you aren't here. I guess I am the one that needs to have more faith in the things I can't control. You say that you love me, and that should be enough for me. I need to figure out a way to trust that."

I squeezed my fist tighter, feeling the cut of metal in my hand as validation of the decision I made earlier.

"It probably hasn't helped matters that you and I are great at talking and confrontation, but seem to shy away from what's really on our mind. If this is going to work, Edward, we both need to get over that."

A faint trace of a smile graced his face. It was nice to see.

"I had the same thought." He responded. "I'll admit that I've distracted you in the past to keep from talking about things. Although I can tell you now, there is no way in hell I will ever give up baiting you. It's part and parcel to who we are."

"I wouldn't expect you to. Just know that I may dish it back now too. I'm not little wimpy Bella anymore. I think I know how to push back now."

"Now that is something that I'll enjoy seeing."

Tightening my fist one final time, I took a deep breath and launched into the thoughts I had collected on the flight.

"There are a lot of things we've never talked about, marriage being one of them. In some ways, I feel like I know you better than anyone, but in other ways, I don't know you at all. That's not good or bad, it's simply the truth." I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. "There are a million and one unknowns in my future, but there are two things that I have absolutely certainty about."

I dropped my knees to the side so that I could turn to face Edward.

"Knowing you has made me a better, stronger person. I never really thought about whether or not I like myself. When I look back on it, I didn't like the person I was before I met you. And as much hell as we've been through, I understand now that it was all necessary to get me to a place where I liked who I am. That started here, with you."

Edward continued to stare out at the water.

"Look at me, please?" I was scared, and I needed some sort of response, or reassurance from him before I continued.

He dropped his forehead on his arms for a moment, and then turned his head so that he was facing me.

"Hi," I said quietly.

He didn't answer, but his smile was brilliant enough to give me that subtle little push forward.

"I brought something back. Something that is important to me. And I want you to have it. I'm not putting any type of label on it, because my obsession with labels and rules and structure is what got me in a lot of trouble in the past. Life is more complicated than I gave it credit for, and I am accepting that and rolling with it from now on."

I squeezed my fist one final time and launched in.

"My grandfather gave me my first copy of Dracula. I was twelve. He knew that I loved all things scary, and wanted to give me something that would develop my brain. I laughed at him at the time, but he told me something that has always stuck with me. He said 'Bella, you never know how the things that you learn might influence the path you take in life. For all you know, this book could change your life.''

Raising my arm, I turned my fist over and opened it to reveal what I held in the palm of my hand.

"In a way, he was right. It did change my life, because without it, I don't know if I would have met you. So it only seems right that I give you this." I tried to keep my hand still, but my nerves betrayed me. "It only seems appropriate given he set me on this path to begin with."

Edward's gaze lingered on my hand for a moment, before shifting to face me.

"I thought about it for a long time, and I can't think of anyone else I'd want to have it. I don't know where life is going to take us, and I mean what I said about staying away from labels, but take the intent of what it represented to my grandparents as sincere."

He reached out to retrieve the gold band. His hand was as unsteady as mine.

"What should I do with it?" He asked, uncertainty coloring his words.

"What do you want to do with it?" I knew what I wanted, but I couldn't ask that. It needed to be his decision.

Edward studied the ring in his hand for a long moment, before slipping it onto the ring finger of his left hand.

"Look at that, it fits." He extended his fingers so that the little bit of light left in the day could refract off the band. "Is that a sign that it was meant to be?"

"No, that's on the inside of the band." I grasped his hand and flipped it over so that I could run my finger along the band. "I always thought my dad was named after my grandfather, since they were both Charlie's. But I was wrong. Look inside."

Edward frowned and slipped off the ring. He held it up, rotating it until he saw the inscription.

"E+I?" He asked, confused.

"I was named after my grandmother. His name was Eric."

Edward studied the ring for a moment longer before slipping it back on his finger. "Don't you ever tell Alice; she'll never let this go."

"Actually, I had it engraved earlier in the week. A little leap of faith if you will. Not even I would believe something that corny."

It drew the first legitimate laugh out of Edward that I'd heard in weeks.

"So what happens now?" He asked.

"Immediately, I think we go back and hang out with our friends. I haven't done that in a really long time, and I really missed it."

"And then?"

"Well, I'd say it depends on what you have packed in the front pocket of your bag," I quipped, feeling more confident in the tone of our exchange. "But we both know that you don't have to travel prepared anymore."

"I meant longer term, Bella."

The trace of hope was there. We hadn't solved everything, and there was still a lot of work to be done, but we were in it together.

"I go on an interview and hopefully land a job or two. You go back to work. I buy you some books so that you can finally know what a lemony snicket is."

"Are you coming home with me?"

"Home is with you, Edward. It always will be. But I want to do this the right way, which means going slow. I'm going to move my stuff into Rose's for now."

"But we both know that you'll probably be at my place most of the time."

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"Bella, it can be whatever you want it to be."

"Does that mean I actually get a key?"

He took a playful swipe at me, flipping my hair off my shoulder.

"Depends on what's in it for me."

"I'll give you your tie back…" I offered. He hadn't mentioned the picture, and I was curious as to whether or not he'd actually gotten it.

"No, keep it. I kind of like knowing that I am in your trousers, although I'd like to think I'm more the type to take them off than hold them up."

He stood and brushed off the front of his jeans, then extended his hand

"Well then, I guess we should get moving, shouldn't we?"

"I guess we should." I grabbed hold, and he pulled me upright and into his arms.

"I missed you. And I'm sorry about everything. I'd say that I want to take them all back, but I don't want to for fear of ruining anything in the future," he whispered into my hair.

He didn't need to elaborate. I understood what he meant. And maybe someday, he would ask again. And mean it.

Someday.

"I love you, Isabella. You know that don't you?"

I tightened my grasp around his waist. This was home. Everything else would come.

"I love you too Edward. And more importantly, I need you. I've never really needed anyone before. Or allowed myself to."

What I didn't say, but what we both knew, was that there were different types of need. Physical, emotional, intellectual. When all wrapped up together, they formed an unbreakable bond. We wouldn't be without our challenges. That's not the reality of life. But we'd face them together.

In the end, that's all that either of us could ask for.

"Come on, I hate to think what Emmett and Esme might get up to together. Poor Carlisle is probably apoplectic." Edward teased as we walked hand in hand toward the car.

"Oh, say that again. I like the way that sounds."

"Apoplectic? Are you daft?"

"Watch it! I had a traumatic brain injury, bud." I bumped my hip against his, throwing him off balance. "Actually, there are just certain words that I like to hear you say."

We'd reached his car, and he twirled me around so that my back was pressed up against the passenger door.

"Really. Well, truth be told, there are a few things I am partial to hearing you say as well."

"Such as?"

He grinned at me. "I'll tell you tonight. I had Esme put Emmett and Rosalie at the other end of the house. That way I don't have to worry about what anyone might overhear."

"You aren't going to tell me?"

Edward dipped his head down, and kissed my throat. I let out a small sigh in reaction.

"That's one. I can think of probably five or six more, but you'll have to wait."

"I'm not a patient woman, Edward."

He grinned at me and walked around the car.

"That's what I love about you. Now, do you remember how to work a manual transmission?"


	39. Chapter 39

_There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part._

_Dracula, Bram Stoker_

**Chapter 29 - The Labyrinth Maze**

It was a small miracle that I managed to stay awake for as long as I did. Between the red eye from Chicago to London and the drive north to Whitby, I'd been going nonstop for almost two days, surviving on a few short cat naps and adrenaline. The only thing that kept me moving was now behind me, and even with Edward's hand resting securely over mine on the stick shift, the steady roar of the motor slowly lulled me to sleep. I vaguely remember Edward lifting me out of the car and carrying me into Dunsley Hall. The echo of laughter trailing down the hallway to greet us.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." Edward started toward the stairs. "Don't argue. I know you will, but you are exhausted. Everyone will be here tomorrow."

My hand instinctively twisted into the cotton of his shirt, and I closed my eyes, no longer capable of fighting. It felt like that was all I'd done of late. Fight with him, fight with myself, fight for us. Somehow, I'd managed to run the gauntlet to emerge battered but jubilant. There was a future, and no need to rush. I could cede this small bit of time.

I think I fell back asleep before we ever reached our room, and for the first time in a week, it was free of dreams.

"Bella…Bella, come back…"

Hearing my name called with such desperation pulled me up out of a deep sleep. For a moment I felt panic, disoriented by a dark room I didn't know. And then I felt Edward next to me, his body tense. One arm thrown up over his head, his other twisted in the bed sheets.

He was dreaming. And in his dream he was calling my name. He was still struggling, afraid that I would leave again. My fight was over. I needed to let him know his could be too.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was well after three in the morning. No point in waking him up. Rolling onto my side, I moved as close as I could, resting my

head on his chest and draping my leg over his. Soon the mumbling stopped, and his heartbeat slowed under my hand. His body relaxed, and he rolled slightly towards me.

"It's okay, I'm here. I'm not leaving again, I promise," I whispered. It was as much for me as it was for him. I finally knew where I belonged in the world, and how all the pieces around me should align. My bad dreams had finally gone away; maybe in time his would too.

We lay in the dark for a long time, Edward's breathing steady and even. He didn't talk anymore.

"Wake up sleepy head."

Fingers combed through my hair, starting at my scalp then gently dragging down through the tangles. I pressed my face deeper into the pillow, enjoying the sensation. He continued the circuit, fingers pushing gently against my scalp, then pulling through my hair, letting the strands fall back to my shoulders only to repeat again.

Pressure, work through the tangles, fall away. Over and over.

"I don't suppose you brought me breakfast in bed," I mumbled into the cotton of the pillowcase.

"Breakfast was hours ago. I did bring you a cup of coffee, but late lunch is more like it."

I rolled over and gingerly opened my eyes. The room was still dark, the heavy damask curtains drawn against any light.

"What time is it?"

"It's 2 in the afternoon here, 6 a.m. in Chicago. I'll let you stay on Central time for one more day, and then we are reprogramming you," Edward teased.

"So long as you keep doing the hair thing, you can reprogram me all you want." I struggled to sit up, feeling a bit lightheaded. It had been more than a day since I'd last eaten, but I didn't feel overly hungry. "Coffee?"

"Yes, coffee. And some toast, I didn't know how hungry you would be."

"Kay, let me hit the loo, then I'll down that in two gulps." I crawled out of the giant bed and stumbled to the bathroom. My legs felt a bit rubbery, and I had to brace myself before sitting down. Maybe that food would do me good after all.

"You realize what you just said?" Edward called to me, his voice muffled by the closed door.

"What, that I had to go to the bathroom? It's a normal thing people do when they wake up. I might even brush my teeth too."

I flushed the toilet and turned the water on in the sink, quickly washing my hands before spreading toothpaste on my brush.

"No, Bella. You called it the loo."

"Mowwhat?" I mumbled through a mouthful of foam.

"Brit's call it the Loo, Bella. Since when do you use British slang?"

I leaned over to spit toothpaste in the sink, then cupped my hand to catch the cold water. A quick sip and rinse, then another cup splashed on my face had me feeling halfway human. I glanced in the mirror, and was greeted by bright eyes, hopeless hair, and dark circles. I looked like I hadn't slept well in a week, and I really didn't care. I threw open the door and rushed across the room, throwing myself in Edward's arms. The momentum was enough to knock him backward from his perch at the edge of the bed.

"Since I decided to become a wannabe Brit," I whispered against his cheek. "They really do have some rather quaint sayings. The man at customs told me I was the bee's knees."

"That you are. Now I thought you wanted coffee?" Edward teased as he kissed my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

"Screw the coffee. We're back here and we're okay. Everything else can wait."

We'd said our piece yesterday, laying everything out on the proverbial table for analysis. We'd both collapsed in a state of mental and physical exhaustion after, letting a bit more time heal the wounds. The road stretched out in front of us, no clear path, just ours to explore. There was no map, no directions, and I'd finally decided that I could be okay with that. Life with Edward would never be easy, but that's what made it worthwhile. I understood how our pieces fit together, and as long as I kept sight of that, I could allow everything else to just be. It was a testament to how much I had grown, and because of that growth, how much I could trust those around me.

"You need to eat," he insisted as his fingers ghosted along my neck. "You're blood sugar is probably low."

"I'm fine," I insisted. But Edward would have nothing of it, rolling me off onto my side so he could reach over me.

"Eat a slice of toast," he demanded, holding it aloft.

"I'm fine, Edward."

"Eat."

I frowned and took a vicious bite out of the piece of bread. It was almost too big, and I had to chew vigorously to swallow.

"More please," he instructed, sounding like a demanding father. Or pediatrician. I guess he wasn't far off.

"Your bedside manner sucks," I snarked before taking another bite. He continued to hold the toast as I chewed. Four more bites, and I'd managed to consume it all.

"Better, but…" Edward's hand, now free of toast, moved towards my face, his thumb pressing against my chin, forcing me to turn away. "You have butter right…here."

His tongue was warm against the corner of my mouth, just a quick touch and then it was gone.

"How do you do that?" I whispered, my heart slamming in my chest.

"Do what? Wait, missed a spot." His tongue was back, just underneath my lower lip, a torturously slow tease.

"You barely even have to touch me," I whispered, my breathing shallow. "I don't want to rush anything or be stupid, but my god, you just…"

He kissed my chin, moving lower, down my neck to the hollow of my throat. His cheek came to rest just to the side, and he didn't move.

"God I love that feeling," he said, his fingers pressing into the same spot on the other side, just above my collarbone. "I can feel your pulse racing, and I know that I do that to you."

He grabbed my hand and flattened my index and middle fingers against his throat, in exactly the same spot. I could feel the steady thrumming as his blood raced below the surface. It was a strong staccato thump just like mine.

"It affects me too, Bella, don't you understand that? It always did. I never stood a chance against you. And now I don't care. No more against, just with. No more fighting, no more confusion. "

He kissed my throat, his lips just barely skimming my skin. "But I will never stop this. I love that I can provoke you, and I love your fire. Burn me all you want. It's not rushing into anything; it's just accepting what has always existed between us."

"What if this goes away? Or if it fades?" I asked, suddenly afraid of the prospect.

Edward laughed and propped himself up on an elbow. "Do you trust me?"

"I came back to England, didn't I?"

"Close your eyes, I want to prove something to you."

I frowned and opened my mouth to protest.

"Isabella…" he warned.

"Fine," I huffed, closing my eyes.

"When I met you, you were so closed off," Edward murmured. His fingers traced lightly over the bridge of my nose, my eyebrows, then back down my cheekbones. "I pushed you and tormented you to get you to open up. Every little thing I did, every touch…" his fingers moved lower, along my neck and down onto my chest, stopping just over my heart, "was meant to incite a reaction. It scared you didn't it?"

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"And eventually, it didn't scare you anymore, but you didn't want me to stop, correct?"

Nodding again, I wriggled, trying to force him to move.

"Stop it, I'm not finished yet. Do you like being off balance?"

"Yes?" I whispered, my answer coming out too much like a question.

"So tell me," he asked, "did you like throwing me off balance, before I panicked and blew everything up?"

His hand started to move again, up along my collar bone, down my arm, raising gooseflesh as he reached the inside of my wrist.

"When has anything about us ever been calm or complacent?" his hand moved across my stomach, slowly pushing the cotton of my T-shirt out of the way. "If I can make both our hearts beat this hard by barely touching you, how the hell would that ever go away?"

My eyes flew open, and I tried to sit up, but Edward would have none of it.

"Isabella…" he warned.

"Fine," I huffed again, dropping back and closing my eyes.

"Are you worried about getting bored?" Edward asked as he resumed his exploration, drawing small patterns on my stomach. Waves. Circles. Loops.

"Somehow I don't think you'll ever be boring," I gasped, squirming and trying not to laugh. His touches tickled.

"Then what are you afraid of?" he asked. "We've already established that I will probably put up with everything you dish out and then some."

I sat up again, my elbows holding me in place. "Are you admitting a weakness?"

Edward frowned, taking in my smile. Then he laughed, shaking his head in amazement.

"Everything about you is a weakness you silly, insecure, petulant little girl. Don't you get that by now?"

"Really?" I was amazed, totally dumbfounded. I wasn't insecure about how we felt about each other, but I never anticipated that we would be on equal footing; at least not in that regard.

"Really. Now are you going to take this somewhere, or is all of my antagonism for naught?" Edward lay back on the bed, his fingers laced behind his head.

"You little shit!" I pushed him, laughing.

"You're the one that accused me of winding you up and watching you go. I just decided I liked doing it more when I wound you up and made you laugh at the same time." He jerked his head slightly, inviting me closer. "Now are you going to do something about this, or is it a lost cause? Bag's over there if you need it."

Such was the dynamic between us, ever changing, constantly evolving. We might not be on equal footing all the time, but we had learned how to give and take. More appropriately, I'd learned how. Leaning over, I kissed the tip of his nose, and then his chin, staying far away from his mouth.

"Did you really pack a stash of condoms? Isn't that a bit presumptuous Edward?" I blew on his neck, trying not to laugh as he shuddered. "I told you before; we don't have to worry about that anymore. Do you not listen to a word I say?"

"Who's torturing who now?" Edward groaned as I popped loose the button on his pants. "I didn't want to assume…"

I quickly tugged at his clothing, not answering. He'd already kicked off his shoes, so with a quick shake, the rest of his clothes were on the floor. I wriggled free of my clothes and grabbed his wrist, pulling him into a seated position.

"I told you we didn't have to be safe anymore," I murmured as a slipped into his lap. "I went to Chicago, but I kept taking the pill."

"Bella, I…"

I wrapped my arms tight around his neck. His hands came to rest on my hips, and we began to move slowly. It was the same and different. We were in balance this time, no one taking more than the other could give, and always knowing that this was finally real.

"I love you I love you l love you," I repeated over and over in his ear, one hand threaded in his hair as the other pressed against his back. I could feel his heart hammering. He was right. I had no need to be afraid. We wouldn't change. This is who we were. Time wouldn't change that; we'd only grow stronger. Fight together, not apart.

Edward's forehead dropped to my shoulder as he struggled to catch his breath. We had barely a minute of silence before a loud thumping filled the room. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped as I buried my face in Edward's neck, embarrassed at what might have been heard.

"Enough with the whole reunion shit already," Emmett hollered through the door. "You have the rest of your lives to hump like bunnies. I just kicked Carlisle's ass at cricket, and croquet is next, so get dressed and get the hell downstairs."

"He's your friend," Edward insisted.

"Funny, I was going to say he's yours," I responded.

"Does that mean we can get rid of him?"

"Do you want to?"

He laughed and kissed my shoulder. "No, I've gotten a bit attached to the bugger. Go shower, I don't want him breaking down the door and crawling in bed with us."

"Rose might get jealous."

Edward shuddered. "Go, you are giving me visuals I most decidedly do not want."

"How the hell can that be fair?" Emmett protested as the red lacquer bail sailed off into the bushes.

"All's fair in love and croquet, Emmett," Esme chided, twirling her mallet. "Did you really think I was going to go easy after you trash talked your way through cricket?"

I sucked my upper lip in between my teeth to hold back a giggle. Apparently Emmett made the mistake of telling Carlisle and Esme about his experience playing Rugby with Edward. Emse decided to further his indoctrination by introducing him to other English sports. We'd obviously been too 'busy' to make his introduction to cricket, but we weren't spared Emmett gloating about how he'd 'lit up' Carlisle. There was some additional color commentary about baseball being a real sport. Emmett was far from the gracious winner, even if it was merely batting practice.

Esme, ever the loyal wife, decided to take him down a peg by bringing out the genteel sport of croquet. Immediately rising to the bait, Emmett made it all of ten minutes before Esme had sent the first of his balls sailing out of bounds.

His eyes were wide as she turned to face him with an innocent smile.

"St Mary's High School, four years of field hockey," she said sweetly.

"Didn't you get offered scholarships?" Carlisle enquired.

"A few Big Ten schools offered up money, but I decided to focus on academics instead." She twirled her mallet like a baton. "Your turn, Emmett."

"You, I…" Emmett fumbled, shocked by the turnabout. He glanced over at Rose, hoping for some sort of support or reassurance. I was unsuccessful in holding back the laughter. Petite Esme, looking like a school girl twirling a demented baton, stood next to Emmett, beaming. She was so tiny next to him; the perky little head cheerleader next to the star quarterback. Only instead of basking in adulation, the star quarterback handsome face was marred by a scowl. He was even less gracious as a loser.

"Consider this payback, Benedict Redneck," Rose teased. "You deserve to have your ass kicked, just be glad it's not me."

"If you think you can take me, you're daft woman," he shot back. "I'll haul you out back to the wood shed and whip you senseless."

"Emmett, if you are going to throw about the Queen's English, you might want to consider not following it up with something out of the Deliverance," Esme teased him. "Now are you going to play or concede?"

"Squeal boy!" Rose shouted, before dissolving into giggles. We were all punchy from the fresh air and exercise, and found ourselves laughing over every little thing.

Emmett grumbled and stalked towards the bushes.

"And there goes Emmett, off to find his nards," Carlisle laughed.

"Ball, singular," Emmett shouted back. "Don't go cracking out all your cheesy British sayings on me, Bella and I already established they make a great game, didn't we, B?"

"That we did, Em." I smiled, remembering a silly little game that had helped pull me out of my funk. Once I'd laughed at them, now they were working their way into my vocabulary, just more proof that things had indeed changed.

Carlisle, Rose and Esme all stared at me as if I had two heads. Behind me I heard Edward chuckle.

"Bear with me," I said. I waited for Emmett to return from the bushes, spinning a red lacquer ball in his left hand. Waving to catch his attention, I turned my hand, holding it up, index and middle fingers extended to form the number two. But instead of turning my hand to face him, I kept my knuckles out and shook my hand slowly. Edward snorted beside me.

"Game on." Emmett dropped his mallet and shot out his right hand, middle finger extended to flip me the bird. "Right back at ya, Dr. Seuss. And I like the American version much better."

"Edward, I worry about the company you are keeping," Carlisle sighed. "They can be quite crass."

"Oh faff off, Carlisle. I've seen you do worse," Esme corrected him. "I do believe one of your favorite sayings is 'go see a man about a dog,' is it not? Can you tell me how a dog is synonymous with taking a leak?"

Carlisle's cheeks turned a brilliant scarlet red as we all collapsed in laughter. Soon croquet was abandoned for the genteel art of insult hurling. Someone would throw out a saying, and it would be countered with its 'across the pond' equivalent. Edward even snorted when Carlisle threw out 'meat and two vedge' and Rosalie countered with 'franks and beans.' Why anyone ever thought to compare genitalia to vegetables was beyond me.

"As enlightening as this is, it's getting late, and I need to start dinner," Esme said as she climbed to her feet.

"I'll help you." Rose jumped up, followed by Carlisle.

"I need to call and check in at the hospital," Edward whispered to me.

"Go ahead on in, I kind of like it out here."

"Go on, you limey prick," Emmett teased. "I'll keep her safe."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Edward shot back. They both smiled with each other, and Edward rapped Emmett on top of the head. "Snarky bugger."

We sat in silence of a while, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon.

"So are things what you expected?" Emmett asked.

A finch bounced across the lawn, stopping here and there to root for grubs or worms. In the distance I could hear a dog barking. All peaceful, normal sounds, nothing out of place.

"Was it what I expected? I don't know, Em. Nothing has been, but that isn't always a bad thing."

"Yeah, I get you there." He leaned back on his hands and stared at the trees. "I'm glad we were both too stubborn to give up on each other. Or give in for that matter. We would have missed out on some amazing things."

"You know what's funny, Em? You are the only guy I can think of where settling wouldn't have been a bad thing at all."

He leaned towards me, nudging me gently with his shoulder, his dimples carving deep indentations around his mouth. "Nah, I'd break you."

"In your dreams, Benedict Redneck." I reached up to press a finger into his dimple. He smiled deeper, grabbing my hand so that he could kiss my wrist.

"I will never betray you, Bella. Ever."

So much hung between us with that simple statement. We'd kept each other afloat, and learned so much from each other. We'd also each done our fair share of damage. But the damage had been necessary to reach the point we were at today. I may always call him Benedict Redneck, but it will forever be said with affection, not malice. In truth, I could never ask for a better friend.

"You are one of a kind, Emmett."

"Don't you forget that, Dr. Seuss." He stood, brushing off the seat of his pants. "And my one of a kind is inside. I'm headed in, you coming?"

"No, I'm good."

He smiled and started toward the house. "Don't stay out here too long. We don't want some dark and mysterious stranger to steal you away like Miss Lucy."

"Hahah, funny. Believe it or not, I've had enough Dracula parallels to last me a lifetime. Now go away and take your bowie knife with you, Quincey."

He laughed and turned his back on me. I watched Emmett walk across the yard, his long stride relaxed as his head bopped to the beat of an unheard song.

Once he was out of sight, I heaved myself up off the ground and wandered toward the tall hedge that had lurked in my peripheral vision for the last few hours. It felt like ages ago that I'd gotten lost in the maze; the despair and the realizations of my mistakes sending me into an absolute panic as I raced blindly to find an escape.

Somewhere in those dark green walls, I'd started to find the answers that had resided within all along.

In the fading light, the maze had the same mythical quality it had that first day. The green hedges a pristine deep emerald against the hazy pink and purple sky. I'd spent so long living in books, constantly comparing real life to the written word, that I'd missed out on the real things. It didn't mean that I couldn't find the beauty in similarity; I just needed to know where it ended.

"When Alice and I were small, the people that owned this place used to throw big parties here. All Hallows Eve, Summer Solstice, you name it. I can't tell you how many times we got lost in that maze." Edward observed from behind me.

"The night you showed up here, and I came busting in soaking wet? That's where I'd been." I responded. "I got lost, and then I panicked when I couldn't find the other side. I kept hitting all these dead ends and wrapping back around. I finally gave up and back tracked until I found my way out."

Edward grabbed my hand and pulled me into the maze, weaving expertly through the tall hedges.

"It's too dark. "We're going to get lost!" I protested. The memories of being stuck came rushing back, and I could feel the claustrophobia start to close in around me.

"You won't get lost if you know what you are looking for," Edward answered cryptically.

We continued to weave through the hedges, the darkness slowly settling in, turning the hedges darker and darker until they were almost black. Just when I was about to demand we turn back, we entered a small rounded clearing, roughly eight feet in diameter. A small iron table and four chairs were arranged in the center. I'd not found this spot the last time I was here.

Edward picked up the hurricane lamp from the center of the table, retrieving a small lighter hidden underneath the base.

"Good old Esme always keeps a torch at hand," he murmured as he lit the candle and lowered the glass back into place. The flame flickered against the damp wax before catching on and growing. A steady, warm glow illuminated the small clearing, returning the hedges to their previous emerald glory.

"I didn't find this last time," I murmured as I walked around the table, taking in the setting. It was so mystical, like something from another time or place.

"This is a labyrinth maze, Bella. There is only one branch, one way in and out. The challenge isn't to get from one side to the other, but to get to the center and back out again." Edward pointed to the opening on the other side of the clearing. "That is the way out, and it ends where we began."

"You've got to be kidding me," I sighed, leaning against the edge of the table. "Wouldn't it just figure?"

It was fitting in a way. I'd gone in looking for the other side, focused on the end and not the journey. I'd gotten lost along the way because I wasn't ready to reach the end yet. I needed to get to the center first, to the heart of the matter.

"I had to find myself before I could find you," I said quietly.

"That seems to be the case for both of us, wouldn't you say?" Edward lifted the hurricane lamp off the table, and extended his free hand to me. "But we know where we're going now, and we have light. We won't get lost this time."

I took his hand and followed as he led me out the other side of the clearing. He was right. We wouldn't get lost. Not this time.

And even if we did, we were together.

We'd make it adventure. We knew how to do that now too.


	40. Chapter 40

**Epilogue: Journal of Dr Edward Masen**

December 25

I guess it's appropriate to christen a new journal, and a soon to be new year on a proverbial day of rebirth.

Things have finally quieted down. Gifts have been opened, dinner consumed, and everyone has gone home.

I never really understood the appeal of the holidays until now. My family never made a big to do about it. This year Mum and Dad were off in Australia visiting friends, so I made the impromptu decision to have everyone over to my flat.

I'd not taken into account how spending Christmas with three Americans might change my perspective on the holiday. Their approach was quite different from mine. Tons of presents were added to our usual fair of food and drink. Bella insisted on watching a god awful movie called _A Christmas Story_. She insisted it was a tradition, but I found it bloody terrible.

Complain as I might, I do have a lot to be grateful for this year, and today was living proof. I woke up to hear Bella banging around the kitchen, singing Christmas carols off tune while making coffee.

Jasper and Alice arrived around 10, loaded down with wine and gifts. It seems that my sister was bitten by the conspicuous consumption bug, and decided to go blow for blow with the American contingent. By the time Emmett and Rose arrived, the gifts were spilling out from under the tree and into the middle of the room.

The presents were fun, but the laughter and enthusiasm were even better.

At one point during a lull in the conversation, Emmett and I managed to sneak away so that I could slip him the keys to my car. He had a little surprise lined up for Rosalie in the way of Christmas drinks at Dukes. Apparently she had quite the thing for James Bond, and he thought it would be fun to take her to Dukes for a martini in an Aston Martin. That boy is so head over heels it is cloying. But I can't begrudge him that.

When I gave him the keys, I also handed him a small envelope. When he opens it later, he'll find a news clipping. I figured it would be better for him to have it, and decide how to tell Rose in his own way. Apparently Asian authorities are not as lenient as British ones. Royce couldn't bargain his way out a second time.

Everyone gets what they are due one way or another. It may have taken more time than any of us would have hoped, but Royce will be spending a few years as a guest of the Japanese government after his arrest for beating and raping a woman at nightclub. Dare I say it; I do think the Hon. Royce King would tell you that the British penal system is much preferable to that of the Japanese one.

Speaking of getting their due, the project that Emmet and Rose were assigned to announced that they are ahead of schedule. It should be wrapped and complete by the end of January. That change in schedule was all the reason Emmett needed to finally sit down and talk about the future with Rose. They will be going back to Chicago together, although Emmett insists that he'll always be a southern boy at heart.

I bet Bella 20 quid that they'll be married and pregnant within a year. Bella laughed at me and said no way. I upped it to 40 quid and threw in that Emmett would stay at home with the baby. She took my bet.

As much as we laugh about it, Bella took the news hard. I think that deep down she always hoped that Rose and Emmett would stay here in London. But knowing that where ever they go, they will be together was enough to quell the sense of sadness that she felt at seeing her friends go...

She's asleep on the couch right now. Life has been insane for her. Working full time at the foundation and waiting tables a few nights a week has run her down to the quick. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Her role at the foundation will be a full time salaried position starting in January. She can stop waiting tables and focus on what she really enjoys, which ironically enough is writing critical assessments and analysis of Victorian works. She's already had two articles published in literary magazines, and is seen as quite the revolutionary. She and Jasper have even joked about writing something together.

We were up late last night celebrating that and the fact that after months of jumping through hoops, she finally got the go forth on her HSM Visa. A letter from the foundation was the final nudge to tilt things in her favor. She has the official blessing to stay in London now.

Everything seems to be falling into place. In January Bella will have a full time, decent paying job, legal sanction to stay in the country, and no place to live.

Which is why I haven't given her my present yet.

I intentionally wrapped it up in a way that will drive her crazy. Boxes hidden one inside the other like Russian nesting dolls. Some are empty. Three are not.

She'll laugh when she opens the first box, but won't be surprised. From the moment I saw it, I knew there was only one photo that could go in her picture frame. She never had given me back that tie.

The second, smaller box will throw her off, and I anticipate that her hands will shake as she pries back the velvet lid. The jeweler had worked over time to reproduce a smaller copy of her grandfather's ring. It didn't help matters that I'd only given him a week's notice.

We still shy away from titles. We know what we are to each other. Definitions don't change that. We've agreed that we'll wait a full two years so that we don't run into any grief when we make it legally binding. But to me, it's just a formality.

I haven't told her because she already knows how I feel, but I am writing it down here so that I can always remember.

The photo of her in all her glory, my tie around her waist and the plane ticket to London in her hand is a reminder of what hope and faith can do. The ring is an endless link, that when placed on the ring finger of the left hand, rests against a major artery that runs straight to her heart. That simple gold band will tie us to the past and takes us to the future. It goes on infinitely.

Just like we always will.

We've both come such a long way. Things aren't always 100 percent perfect, but what relationship is? We have arguments, we're both too stubborn not to. But then we talk through it, and if necessary I admit that I am wrong (because I usually am), and then clothes are thrown across the room as we end up shagging each other senseless. I'd teased her once about the fire that she needed to let loose. That's not an issue anymore, and it's bloody fekking brilliant.

It's perfection looking at her right now. She's curled up in a little ball, her hand tucked under her cheek. Periodically she'll smile or frown in reaction to whatever dream is diverting that fabulous imagination.

The last year has changed so much for all of us. It's truly amazing to think back on everything that we went through, everything that we survived. But we grew from it. We all evolved, and I'd like to think that we are stronger for it.

No, we are. I know we are.

And more importantly, we are better people. With bright futures and people who love us.

There was a line in Bella's written dissertation about intent. So long as the intent was just and done in love, that was all that mattered.

We'd all been destructive in our quest to protect ourselves. We'd lied, we'd run, we'd assumed when we should have asked. And yet it all had turned out for the best. All because the intent had been good, simply the execution flawed.

Bella had been right about that after all.

Maybe someday I'll tell her that. Or maybe not. I do still try to throw her off balance when I can.

Which was the gift in the third box.

Her own membership to the zoo.

She'll laugh and say that technically it's a gift to myself.

And in a way it is.

But I'll never admit to that.

I do have to maintain some air of mystery after all.


	41. Chapter 41

**Smut Monday Outtake –Frigidaire**

_You lying so low in the weeds_

_I bet you gonna ambush me_

_Youd have me down down down down on my knees_

_Now wouldnt you, barracuda?_

_- Heart, Barracuda_

When I accepted the job in London, I thought I would be jump starting my career. To be assigned to such a major project at such a young age was huge. Add on top of that I was an attractive woman, and well, you get the drift.

For the first month, everything had gone smoothly.

And then he had shown up. With his down home charm and dimples so deep you could swim in them.

All the women in the office were absolutely nuts about him. Which in and of itself was a turn off to me. When did I ever want what everyone else did?

But then he had to go and start dabbling. Comments on my parts of the project. Opinions as to how I should do certain things.

He was never obnoxious about it. That was the worst part. He was gracious and helpful, and made the observations out of earshot of anyone else. I could have taken his ideas and passed them off as my own. Anyone else would have.

If he could have just been the typical man, who was constantly ogling my chest and making lewd comments, it would have made it all that much easier.

But he wasn't. He was gorgeous and under all that down home bluster, he was a really nice guy. But that didn't change anything. This was my job, and I was here to do it well. That meant focusing on the prize and not letting his wounded looks faze me when I'd make a sarcastic comment.

I don't know why I cared. I didn't owe Emmett McCarty anything.

**#**

Saturday was supposed to be a fun night out. A little flirting, some drinks. A good time.

And then he had shown up. The minute he walked in the door I knew it was fight or flight. I'd turned to Royce in a moment of panic and asked if we could go somewhere else. He had been after me to go somewhere more civilized all night, and it gave me the perfect escape. I didn't stop to think about how I said it or how it came across. I didn't know him well enough to have a thought one way or another, simply that I needed to get out now.

He took me somewhere predictably snooty and uptight. Just the type of place that you go to see and be seen. I came up with some lame excuse about being tired and having a lot of work to do the next morning as soon as we'd finished our first drink. I could tell that Royce would have liked more, but I kept harping on about needing to focus on work, and that I couldn't be hung over.

Sadly, it _was_ true. By ten the next morning I was in the office, elbows deep in technical diagrams.

For three hours I managed to distract myself with numbers and calculations. But around noon my stomach started to growl, a reminder of the fact that I hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before. A quick pop out to grab lunch, I told myself. Just grab some take out and then I'd dive right back in. I needed to stay ahead, stay on top of my game. Keep the focus, I continuously told myself.

But I never made it out of the building.

Emmett's office was just a few doors from mine, and something draped over the back of his chair caught my eye.

A black zip front sweatshirt.

I don't know what possessed me to do it. Had anyone else been in the building, I don't think I would have.

Darting in his office, I closed the door behind me. His chair was pushed back away from the desk, and I pulled the sweatshirt around me, holding the collar up so I could breathe in.

With my eyes closed, I fooled myself into believing that he was here. That I didn't have to worry about my career or how people perceived me. And if that were the case, nothing would have stopped me from going after him with a vengeance.

I was sure a few times he'd caught me staring. Last week we'd been in a meeting; he had leaned back in his chair, head angled up towards the ceiling as he tossed a wad of

paper up in the air. Every time it descended he'd reach up to snag it, and then lob it back up for another round.

Everyone laughed at his antics. But I was too busy staring at the hint of exposed skin where his shirt had come untucked. There was just a glimpse of color underneath, and it made me wonder whether he was a boxers or briefs type of guy. I had to stop myself when I started thinking about how easy it would be to subtly run my finger along that small bit of skin. Would he be surprised? Could I make him blush?

Would he like it?

I blew out a long breath and pulled the sweatshirt in tighter around me. I was so incredibly attracted to this man that it was mind boggling. That's why I had bolted the night before. I put on a show for Bella, spouting off something about the Redneck being there and not wanting to deal with it. Truth be told, I had enough alcohol in me that I would have been all over him like white on rice, and we would have ended up at his apartment or mine. There was no way in hell that someone looking like that wouldn't be brilliant in bed.

And I'd never been able to resist temptation.

The memory of him in low slung jeans and a tight black t-shirt, combined with the smell of him wrapped around me was too much. I couldn't handle the frustration or the pressure anymore. Keeping the sweatshirt secured with one hand, I let my other hand wander. My body literally ached, and I had to release the tension or I'd explode.

I closed my eyes, thinking of that small flash of skin. I ran my hand along my body, squeezing my breast before letting my hand drop to my hip bone. I wished it were his fingers tracing across my body instead of my own.

Propping one foot on the edge of his desk I let my hand slid lower, under band of the loose fitting wind pants I'd thrown on this morning. I teased myself, sweeping a finger back and forth as shockwaves coursed through my body. Not enough, I slipped a single finger inside, moaning and then gasping at the intensity of the sensation. The intake of breath brought another wave of him coursing through my nostrils, stoking the fire even higher. God, imagine if that were his hand, his tongue…

My other foot found the edge of the desk and I tipped back in the chair, breathing deep as I pushed deeper in. I could feel the spring tightening in my stomach, the release I needed to try and get my head back together.

Normally, I can bring myself to climax in less than a minute. It's all about knowing the right spot and how to hit it. But this was the closest I'd ever get, and I wanted to enjoy what little of him I could get.

I was biting my lip, fighting the need to cry out, to let go when a heard a ding. Two male voices could be heard as they passed the door, rambling on in their proper English accents about permits and budgets.

They were close enough to shake me out of my lust induced haze. What the fuck was I doing? Getting myself off in the office of a co-worker? God, if I'd have been caught I'd have been laughed back to the states on the next flight. My career would have been a shambles.

Quickly wiping my hand on the leg of my pants I dropped the sweatshirt back in the chair. When I was sure they were gone, I slipped out of Emmett's office and tiptoed back to mine.

I needed to get him out of my head or he was going to be my undoing.

**#**

I worked until six. A few colleagues trickled in early in the afternoon, which was enough to keep me distracted until I could go home and talk to Bella. She would have perspective. She would help me figure this out.

But luck wasn't on my side, as I could hear laughter as I unlocked our front door. She'd been smitten by some British guy. Maybe she'd finally let go of Mike and was having a good time. Lord knows she deserved it.

But there was no cocky Englishman sitting on the couch on my flat.

It was my fantasy incarnate. With my best friend.

I was wound so tight that I snapped.

"What in the hell are you doing in my flat?"

He launched off the couch, a lock of shock on his face. "Rose? What the hell are you doing here?"

I whipped around to see Bella standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Bella, what is...this…this…Redneck doing here?" I knew that it was cruel and immature to call him that, but it kept the distance, gave me perspective. It kept me from acknowledging him.

Bella's eyes went wide as she looked back and forth between us. And then something seemed to click. She dropped the paper towels she had been holding on the kitchen counter, and headed towards the door.

"I'm going for a walk. Rose, you need to sit down and shut up while my friend from _business class_ says a few things to you."

She grabbed her coat and glanced at him.

"Seize the moment Em. I know you can do it. I'll be back in a bit."

With that, she slammed the door shut behind her.

"Listen, Rose…"

I closed my eyes, not wanting to hear him say my name. Bella's words kept ringing through my head, 'my friend from business class.' The cute guy from her flight. The one that she flirted with. The one that had asked her out.

He wanted her, not me. It was just the push I needed him to try and get him out of here, away from me as soon as possible, or this would not end well.

Taking a long, deep breath, I turned in the kitchen doorway to face the man that had been on my mind non stop since the day he walked into the office with his baseball hat and down home charm. I wasn't prepared to see the confusion and sadness on his face. He was here because of her, not me. What right did he have to be upset?

"So it's not good enough to have every woman in the office lusting after you, you are taking a run at my roommate now too?"

Emmett stood and walked towards me.

Please stay back, I chanted to myself. Please don't come closer. Please don't give me platitudes about how I'm a great girl, blah blah blah.

"I had no clue that she was your roommate. We hung out; we spent the day together. She's my friend."

"She has the hots for someone else," I snapped at him. It was cruel, and I could see the shock register on his face. Why was I doing this? Why couldn't I let him be happy? Was it because he wanted someone other than me? I couldn't get distracted now; better to let him chase Bella, even if she wanted someone else.

"So do I," Emmett answered softly. "Bella helped me figure that out."

My brain was sending out warning signals left and right. Get him out of here, now.

"What, so you use her to figure your own shit out. You are a bigger jerk than I took you for."

Emmett took a step closer. I kept waiting for him to blow up, to tell me I was a bitch, to storm out.

Instead he reached out to twirl a strand of my hair around his finger.

"You aren't a bitch, Rose. I don't believe you when you act this way. It's not who you are."

A lump was building in my throat. I could feel the panic setting in. Please don't do this Emmett. I don't need you to be a nice guy. Be an asshole. I can't have you in my life right now, please make this easier for me.

"Rose, I can't stop thinking about you. You are everywhere. In the office, in my thoughts. I can't get you out of my head." He was closer now, and I could feel the heat coming off his body. A hint of five o'clock shadow darkened his jaw, and there was a small jagged scar just at the edge of his chin.

I wanted to lick it, to have him rub his chin across my skin so that it would turn red and burn. Burn like the rest of me.

"Leave, now." I spoke the words as coldly as I could.

"Rose, please…" Emmett's hand moved from my hair to my face, his finger grazing the edge of my jaw.

"Stop it! Just stop!" Out of instinct my hand came up in a fist. I wasn't going to swing at him; it was simply a reaction to my frustration and my fear.

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me in closer too him. I raised my other arm to push him away. But he captured that wrist too.

"Why do you push me away? Can't you open up and let me in? I know you don't hate me. You are too good of a person to hate anyone."

His words cut through me. I couldn't open myself up. The thought terrified me. I was afraid that by letting him in, I'd lose myself and everything I'd worked so hard to accomplish. And everything that others inferred about me would be true. Just a pretty face, a trophy fuck. The girl that used her looks to get ahead. No substance or strength underneath.

I'll be damned if I lose myself in a man like Bella did. That's not who I am.

I tried to push him away again, but his grasp was too tight, and he was too strong.

The anger was apparent in his eyes now. The more I fought, the brighter it shone through.

"What the fuck, Rose? What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?"

I didn't hate him, I couldn't. And with that single admission to myself, my resolve, my control, my will to push him away was all gone.

He saw me coming before I could make contact, and was more than prepared. His mouth was wet and warm and god the minute I felt his tongue I knew it was all over. My hands knotted in his shirt, and I held on for dear life as I poured weeks of frustration into that kiss.

He gave as good as he got, darting his tongue in and out of my mouth, teasing then pulling away. He broke away from my mouth, trailing kisses along my jaw and down my neck, before returning to kiss me again. And it felt like heaven, only better.

At some point he released my wrists, which allowed me to wrap my arms around his neck and crush myself up against him.

"Stop being such a fucking gentleman and touch me, god damnit!"

"If I start, I'm not going to stop." Emmett's breathing was coming in hard labored gasps.

"What are you waiting for then? Fucking get to it."

It was all the motivation that he needed. Before I knew it, he had somehow backed me into the kitchen and pinned me up against the refrigerator. He tugged at my shirt and pushed my bra up out of the way.

"Oh fuck," I gasped as he squeezed my breast roughly.

"Soon enough." His mouth replaced his hand and he sucked hard, grazing his teeth across my skin. He alternated hand and mouth, sucking and licking at my exposed breasts.

I awkwardly yanked at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up so I could get access to that same spot of skin that had taunted me during the meeting. It was just above the waist band of his jeans, and I slipped my hand in between us so that I could dip my index finger below the exposed band of his boxers, tracing his hipbone like I'd done mine earlier in the day.

Emmett grunted in reaction as I slipped the rest of my hand under the waist band.

"You are playing with fire," he warned as I slipped my hand lower.

"No, I am not playing with anything yet," I cooed in as saccharine a tone as I could muster. My hand was low enough now to wrap around him.

I squeezed just enough to be considered rough, and Emmett bucked his hips forward in reaction.

"Find something you like?" His tone mimicked mine. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. Which left me two choices. Go forward or retreat.

Retreat would be the wise thing.

But going forward had the potential to be fucking fabulous.

I knew it wasn't safe to answer. I was playing a dangerous game with a man that fascinated me. A man that I worked with. A man that could put everything I worked for in a tailspin.

And I didn't give a flying fuck.

My right hand was tangled in his hair. I let go and reached out, fumbling for the drawer closest to the refrigerator. There was a box of condoms stashed in there; I'd planned on giving them to Bella as a gag gift when she got to London. I'd forgotten, and they'd stayed in the kitchen drawer. Thank goodness for small favors.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get laid, what do you think I'm doing?" I managed to pull the top of the box open and fumbled with a strip.

"Rose, this isn't…"

"Don't you want to fuck me Emmett?" I was playing dirty now. It was wrong, and I would regret it all tomorrow, but today I didn't care. "Because I really want you to fuck me. Right now, right here. I need you inside of me so bad that I can't see straight."

He grabbed the strip out of my hand and used his teeth to rip thru the plastic, his eyes never leaving mine. I pulled my hand out of his jeans and pulled frantically at the buttons. As soon as the fly was undone, I pushed his them down just far enough to pull him free.

Grabbing the open packet from his grasp, I pulled out the condom and tossed the wrapper on the floor. He was staring at me intently, his eyes narrowing a bit in reaction as I slowly rolled the condom on him.

I let go of him and hooked my thumbs in the band of my wind pants, pulling them down with one fell swoop. I worked my shoes and pants off as his hands slipped around to lift me up against the refrigerator.

Without allowing myself time to think. I wrapped one arm around his neck and brought my legs up around his waist. Using my index finger and thumb, I gave him one cursory stroke to make sure the condom was fully on.

I'd not stopped to take into consideration that Emmett might have his own plans as his hand quickly slipped down my stomach.

"Do you know how hard it is to work around you? How badly I've wanted you?" Emmett growled in my ear. His fingers were exploring me now, teasing and probing just like I'd done in his office this morning. He anticipated every reaction, every button, and used that knowledge to push me just to the edge before pulling back.

"This is your last chance. Tell me to stop now, because this is the point of no return."

His free hand tangled in my hair, coiling it around his fist to hold me in place. The tension caused me to tilt my head slightly to the side, so that he could suck on my neck. His other hand continued to tease me, stoking the need in me even higher.

"Please don't stop now." I whimpered as he pulled back. But he had no intention of stopping.

Emmett didn't need encouragement or direction. He lifted me just a bit higher, and slowly pushed into me, letting out a slow labored breath. God he felt absolutely fucking fabulous.

The combination of spending the day sexually frustrated and our confusing work up to this point had me beyond turned on. I wanted to push Emmett, goad him on so that he wanted this just as much as I did. I needed him to want me just as much as I wanted him.

"God you're hard." I tried to move, tried to increase the friction. It was torture feeling him inside of me and not being able to move. "But you are a fucking tease."

"Shut up, Rose," Emmett growled in my ear. He pulled back slightly and pushed back into me, eliciting a low moan from both of us. "Unlike you, I am anything but a tease."

I held on to him, trying to match his rhythm as he pushed me harder up against the refrigerator. My legs were beginning to shake from the effort to hold on to him, to pull him in closer. I could feel an orgasm starting to build, and I pulled him in a bit tighter, grinding into him as hard as I could.

"Oh dear god…." I arched my back away from the refrigerator as he moved me up a bit higher.

Emmett's hand slipped in between us, and he swiped his thumb across me. "Christ, you are so fucking wet. You wanted this as badly as I did, didn't you?"

He repeated the path, pressing a bit harder. And I was gone. I clamped my hand in a fist, digging my nails into my hand so that I didn't cry out. But god did I want to. I wanted to shout his name, beg for more, and sink my teeth in his shoulder. Instead I squeezed tighter, most likely drawing blood in the process.

Emmett groaned and pushed me up against the refrigerator hard enough to hear the bottles inside clank together. I could feel him pulse as he released into me, and his head buried in my neck.

"Why can't I be enough for you?"

The vulnerability in his statement threw me into a tailspin. And I knew I was toast. There was no way that I could stay away from him now. Try as I might, my attraction to him was not going to be denied. I'd want this again. I'd want him again, just like he would want me. And it would only cause trouble.

He held me against the refrigerator for a moment while he caught his breath before letting go of my legs. As he straightened up, something caught his eye, and he snorted a dry laugh.

"Perfect. I fucked the ice queen against a Frigidaire. How apropos."

His eyes bore into mine, but there was no humor in them.

"Just what you'd expect from a redneck, eh?"

Forget trouble. I was fucked. Literally and figuratively fucked. And I really didn't care.

"If that's what you can do against a fridge, what can you do in a bed?"


End file.
